A description of loue With certaine epigrams. Elegies. and sonnets. And also Mast. Iohnsons answere to Master Withers. With the crie of Ludgate, and the song of the begger.

A DESCRIPTION OF LOVE . With certaine Epigrams . Elegies . and Sonnets . AND Also Mast. IOHNSONS Answere to Master WITHERS . With the Crie of Ludgate , and the SONG of the Begger . The sixth Edition .

LONDON , Printed by M. F. for Francis Coules at the vpper end of the Old-Baily neere Newgate . 1629.

The Author to the Booke . IT is no little Cottage that containes Wild wandring youth , or giddy headed brains : Their soft downe beds at home or daintie fare Contents them not , they loue the open Ayre : They among themselues expostul●ting , say , Shall we like Snailes , liue in our shel●● Away , To Sea for shame , to Ship , let 's goe aboord , And see what other Countries can affoord ▪ But being pincht with cold , or parcht with heat , Ready to die with thirst , or starue for meat , When they grow leane and lowsie , tatterd ▪ torne , When they be curbd , mockt , scoft , contemnd , forlorne , Seeing their folly : then they sigh & cry Oh what a happy thing it is to die ! Euen so my gadding Muse , and running braine , Not witting what it was to passe the Maine , In a mad humor once , or merry fit , Would needs goe wander without feare or wit : But being tost in the tempestuous Seas , Hauing no friend , no comfort , rest or ease , She vow'd if e're shee set a foote on shore , Ne're to see Sea , or once take shipping more . Like a drownd Mouse at last to land shee got , And being wounded , weake , and full of shot , Crept in a corner choosing there to lie , ( Rather then once Peepe out of doore ) and die , But yet , alas , within a yeare or twaine , Newes came , my Muse must to the Sea againe : Shee being full of griefe , and quite dismaid , Flies vnto me , and cries to me for aid ▪ But all in vaine for succour did she craue , I could not helpe her : then selfe doe , selfe haue . I told her plaine my minde , what I thought best , To arme her selfe and goe , since shee was prest . So to the Sea the second time shee went , Against all wind and weather being bent . Let Critickes crake and crow , let Roysters raile : No storme ( said she ) shall make me now strike saile A little wetting shall not make me shrinke ▪ I le hoyst vp saile , though I be sure to sinke . Then to her tacklings did she stoutly stand The second voyage , till shee came to land . Good gentle Sirs , let me now beg this boone , That she ne're passe the Seas , as she hath done : The Seas are dangerous , and the Ocean rough , And since that shee hath seruice done enough , Now let her rest : seeke not her heart to breake ▪ She 's weather-beaten , old , and springs a leake . The Pitcher , be it framed ne're so strong , Comes broken home , going to water long , Now let her rest : giue her a little breath , Presse her no more lest shee be prest to death But shee is bound the sixth time to the Seas ; Shee must not lie at harbour or at ease ; I cannot for my life her voyage stay : Shee 's bound , and being bound , shee must obey . Farewell , deare Muse , I thought ere this to see Thee wearie of the World , or that of thee .

To the Booke . MY little ship doth on the Ocean fleet , That euery circumspecting eye may see 't ▪ Now in her iourney lest she chance to faile , L●● Printers pray she may haue happy saile .

To the Reader . SOme men there be that praise what s good they heare And some there are that carpe what ere it be : Some men in Zoilus ghost will soone appeare , And some with Aristippus flattery , But carpe at what you can , dispraise , back-bite , I le neuer hide my Poems from the light .

To the enuious Reader . PAle faced Enuy aimes at greatest men , And by her nature euer seekes to clime ; If it be so , surely she will not then Looke downe so low as for to view my Rime : But if against her nature she will see 't , Her , face to face , my verse shall dare to meet .

A Description of LOVE . NE're toucht my lips the Heliconian Well ▪ Mine eies ne're gaz'd vpon Parnassus hill , My tongue did neuer ancient Stories tell : My hand did neuer hold a curious quill . Yet write I must , but if I barren be , And shew no wit , I le shew my industry . Where is that mortall man that can define The thing cald loue , which all the gods do honor ? Her greatnesse goes beyond the wit of mine , I goe beyond my witts to thinke vpon her : The more I thinke what this same loue should be The lesse I doe conceiue what thing is she . A taske most weightie doe I vndergoe ▪ By vndertaking for to speake of Loue ▪ Whose bare description I did neuer know , Whose definition pose the gods aboue : She s deafe yet heares , she s dumb yet speaks , she s blind , Yet Ianus like , she seeth before , behind . Like vnto Summers grasse shee s fresh and greene , Sh'adornes the body , as the flowers the field , She in a Begger liues , as in a Queene , She conquers Mars , and yet to Mars shee 'l yeeld ; She 's white , she 's red , she 's yellow as the gold , She 's euer liuing , yet is neuer old . Inuisible she is , yet her we see , Both heauen and earth this goddesse doth inherit , She 's flesh , she 's bloud , she 's bone as well as wee , Yet can she nothing doe but with a spirit , She is a ponderous feather , witty folly , A quicke thing slow , a merry melancholy . Shee 'l soone be angry , Shee 'l be pleasd as soone , Maliciousnesse ne'r harbours in her minde . She 's hot i' the morning , but she 's cold ere noone ; She 's rough , she 's calm , she 's hoggish yet she s kind , Shee l sing , shee l sob , so that the curious fiction May terme and call her , well a contradiction . She is a restlesse rest , a feruent cold , A wholesome poyson , she 's a painfull pleasure , Exceeding shame fast , shee 's exceeding bold ; Shee 's bitter hony , shee 's a gainelesse treasure , Shee 's too too loose , yet too too fast a knot : She is a hellish Heauen , what is she not ? She made Leander passe the raging Seas , His louing Hero that he might enioy ; Faire Helean did Paris better please , Then all his kinsfolks , or the wealth in Troy : She 's such a thing that we so much respect That we our friends forget , our selues neglect . Our natiue Countrey doe we quite forsake , Our prudent parents will we disobey , Through desart places iournies doe we make , And so become some lurking Lions prey ; Nay more then this , down quick to hell we go ▪ As Orpheus did , if loue would haue it so . Whilst on the key-cold earth our loue doth lie , The ground sends forth a comfortable heat , Forgetting of her owne propriety , The stones seemes soft whilst loue makes them her seat , Down on the downs whilst Louers lie together The down seems down , & euery stone a fether . Who her enioyes , enioyes all earthly pleasure , Who her enioyes , can feele no cold nor heat , Who her enioyes , enioyes a world of treasure , Who her enioyes , enioyes his drinke , his meat , She s hony sweet , her selfe not mixt with gall ▪ Who her enioyes , enioyeth all in all . But if the goddesse Loue should changed be , And not perpetually abide the same ; She headlong fals into extremitie : She takes vpon her then another name ▪ Her white is blacke , her smilings changed are ; She is a fury growne which once was faire . Her golden haires are turnd to slimy snakes , Her eyes like fire , her touch doth poyson spit ; Most grim and dreadfully her head she shakes , Which on her shoulders once did finely sit . Her pretty lisping tongue , & wanton speeches , Are turn'd to yelling , howling , and to screeches . She whom the gods did loue to looke vpon , Makes Pluto quiuer at her odious sight ; Who was a Mate most meete for Loue alone , Is now become a Fiend of darksome night ; Who once was louely and in rich estate , Is wretched , hurtfull , and is turnd to hate . Your youthfull Youths will not so often knocke , And beate their tender fists against the doore , But rust and canker now consumes the locke . For want of vse which shin'd with vse before , She keep● her home , and lurking there doth lie , In holes and corners free from company , Speake what shee will , she may , there s none that heares : Let her bite , back-bite , slander or reuile , Weepe whilst she s wearie , none respects her teares , We know they come but from a Crocodile ; We know her arts , her cunning , charmes & skill Who can seeme kind to those she meanes to kil . Then why for Rosa should I carke and care ? Why for my Rosa should I sorrow feele , Being shee s false , as much as shee is faire ? What once lay at my heart , lies at my heele : For why , a foole I should accounted be , To die for her that scornes to liue with me . Farewell , my Rosa , fickle as the wind , Yet read these verses which I make of you , Scan them vpon your fingers , and you le find , That euery staffe and line of these be true : The since that you and I are now apart , My verses feet be truer then thy heart . Cursed be that beautie which was once my blisse , Cursed bee those twinkling star-like eyes of thine . Cursed be those lips which gaue me kisse for kisse , Cursed be the tong which told me thou wert mine Cursed be those armes which once did hold me fast And ten times cursed be what ere thou hast . Now to some vncouth desart will I goe , There will I lay me downe in melancholy , Where croaking toades lie throtling out my woe , Or where some snakes lye hissing at my folly : There will I lay me downe , there will I stay , And neuer turne , vntill I turne to clay . But soft , what slumber hath mine eyes opprest , What idle fantasies disturbe my braines , What is it makes me raile amidst my rest , In slumber sweet , what makes me talke of paines ? Pardon sweet Loue , on me compassion take , For this I dreaming or in passion spake . The Helitropium makes no shew at night , The proudest Peacocke hath no pleasing crie , The glittering Sunne reserues his totall light , Though misty clouds may keepe it from our eye : Pardon sweet Loue , once more I pardon aske , Faire is not foule , although she weares a maske . He sometimes feeles the pricks that puls the Rose , Who hony takes , may somtimes touch the sting ▪ The fairest flowers may offend the nose , D●●th may be neere although the Swan doth sing Ch●cks from such cheeks , & frowns from such a face , Sweet loue , I like , so I may thee imbrace . Then promise me I may enioy thy sight , And faithfully thy word and promise keep● , Lest I lie tumbling all the irkesome night , Telling the tedious minutes wanting sleepe . For when ones loue doth stay a while away , Each minute seemes an houre , each houre a day . Seeing . What if I walke most richly through the towne , What if I be ador'd like Mahomet , What if I take my rest on beds of downe , What if I doe enioy whole Kingdoms ? yet All this is nought , vnlesse my Rosa be In presence to behold my brauerie . Hearing . What if the best Musitians that be , Take in their hands a seuerall instrument , And play to me the sweetest harmony , That euer was ? yet were it no content ; The sweetest tunes seeme harsh vnto mine eare , Vnlesse my Rosa be in place to heare . Smelling . What if my skin should be by nature sweet Like Alexanders ; what if by perfumes Each man should smell me passing through the street , What if my smell make sweet il-smelling roomes ? These smels , these odors little will content me , Vnlesse my Rosa be in place to sent me . Tasting . What if my table be most richly spread With the best ●unkets can be made for m●● ▪ If Nectar be my drinke , if that my bread Be of the purest Manche● made , what then ? All these delights will not my palate please , ‛ Lesse my Rosa be in place to taste of these . Feeling . What if the fairest Damsels in the Land With soft silke skin and Alablaster white , Should all at once before me naked stand To touch : they neither please my touch or sight : Rosa is she , like whom there is none such ▪ She is my eye , eare , smell , my taste , my touch . All the Senses . Her voyce is pleasant musicke to the eare , Her lookes doe like our sight exceeding well : Feed on her lips , she is the daintiest cheare , Mongst all perfumes she is the sweetest smell : Our hot desire her water onely quenches , She is the touch , the very sense of Senses . She is the Star by which the Shipmen sayle , She is the hatches , she wherein they rest , She is the wind which makes the prosperous gale She is the hauen , she which pleaseth best ; She is the Dolphin which Arion did Preserue from danger , whilst he plaid and rid . Then be my Pilot to direct my Ship , Be thou the onely house where I may dwell , Be thou the onely cup to touch my lip , Be thou my heauen , and I shall feele no hell : Be thou my winde , in spite of Aeolus ; My iourney then must needs be prosperous ▪ Now what is Loue , or what may we it call , Tell me , O thou that triest ? I doe beseech You see , that onely shee 's the senses all ; I thinke shee 's also all the parts of Speech : To call her first a Noune , I thinke it good , What can be felt , seene , heard , or vnderstood , Noune . She is a Noune , and a Noune substantiue , And by that name I may her rightly call , Who stands her selfe , vnlesse another striue To fling her downe , and force her for to fall : An Adiectiue she may be also said , Who sometime doth require anothers aid But of Noune substantiues there are two sorts , Some Nounes are proper , others common be , The best of all Gramarians reports ; If it be so , yet both of these is she ▪ She 's proper , small , and of but slender bone , She 's doubtfull , common yet to moe then one . A Pronoune . She is a Pronoune , like vnto a Noune : A Pronoune now she may be called well , For she , what ere is done throughout the towne , To euery one that comes , will shew and tell ; She busie is , like Poets that be versing She doth delight in shewing and rehearsing . A Verbe . She 's a Verbe Actiue , for if any wooe , And aske her if she loues , she 'l say , I doe ; She is a Passiue , too , for she 'l sit still , And suffer any man to haue his will : But yet to her I ne'r will be a Suter , She 's Actiue , Passiue , but to me a Neuter . Participle . She is a Participle too , I know , For she hath two strings euer to her bow ; She is a Noune , a Verbe , yet sometimes neither : She sometimes onely takes but part of either : Foure kindes of Participles now there be ; But she is of the Pretertense with me . An Aduerbe . Aduerbs of diuers kinds we know there be , An Aduerbe then of any kinde is she , Sometime she is of place , for here and there , Nay looke for her , you 'l find her any where ; She 's any Aduerbe ; if you would know why , She 'l wish , she 'l sweare , flatter , affirme , deny . A Coniunction . She 's a Coniunction copulatiue , for either As close as wax she ioyneth things together , Or a Dis-iunctiue , for she 'l stir vp strife , ( Hauing a naughty tongue ) twixt man and wife : Shee is a thing that 's fit for any function , Shee 's any thing , therefore any Coniunction . A Preposition . She is a part of speech commonly set Before all other parts of speeches ; yet This part of speech , we very often finde Beyond , beside , nigh , through , about , behinde ▪ She is a Preposition likewise seene , Within , without , against , beneath , betweene . An Interiection . Since she is any thing , we last of all , May rightly her an Interiection call ; Sometimes she 's curst , sometimes exceeding kind , Troubled with diuers passions of the mind ; Of maruelling , she 's often , as Pape , Sometimes of laughing too , as Ha , ha , he . O you most braue coniuring Seminaries , Read and attend my wofull wooing story : Take beades , make crosses , say your Aue Maries , And pray I may be out of Purgatorie : For if I me not in Purgatorie here , I le not beleeue there s any any where .

Epigrams . To the courteous Reader . THese Epigrams I made seuen yeares agoe , Before I rime or reason scarce did know : Condemne me not for making these , alas , It was not I , I am not as I was . Of a Legacie not an Ambassadour . As t was my fortune by a wood to ride , I saw two men , there armes behinde them tide : The one lamenting there what did befall , Cride I 'me vndone , my wife and children all : The other hearing him , alowd did cry , Vndoe me then , let me no longer lie : But to be plaine , the men which there I found , Were both vndone indeed , yet both fast bound . To the Barber . To●sorlus onely liues by cutting haire , And yet he brags , that Kings to him sit bare , Me thinkes he should not brag and boast of it , For he must stand to Beggers while they sit . He tastes of his bitten nailes . Philomathes once studying to indite , Nibbled his fingers , and his nailes did bite : By this I know not what he did intend , Vnlesse his wit lay at his fingers end . Of one subiect to his wife . Noctiuagus walking in the euening sad , Met with a Spirit ; whether it was good or bad , He did not knowe yet courage he did take , And to the wandring spirit thus he spake ; If good thou bee'st , thou 'lt hurt no silly men , If thou beest bad , thou 'st cause to loue me then , For I thy Kinsman am , my wife 's so euill , That I am sure I married with the diuell . Of Nature . Nature did well in giuing poore men wit , That fooles well monified , may pay for it . To Lawyers . To goe to law , I haue no maw , Although my sute be sure ; For I shall lacke sutes to my backe , Ere I my sute procure . Demosthenes his imperfection . Demosthenes both learning had and wit , As wee may gather by the bookes hee writ : Then blame him not hauing so much to vtter , If that his tongue did trip , or he did stutter , Of a Tabacconist . If mans flesh be like swines as it is said , The Metamorphosis is sooner made ; Then full-facd ●nath● no Tabacco take , Smoaking your corps , least bacon you doe make . Of a drunkard . Cinna one time most wonderfully swore , That whilst he breathed , he would drink no more : But since I know his meaning , for I thinke He ment , he would not breath whilst he did drink Of Flatterers . Whilst on the Helitropium Sol doth shine , Her clos'd and twisted selfe it doth untwine , But when from her bright Phoebus takes his light She shuts againe as scornefull to the night . Whilst on me Phoebus sunshine shewes his face , Each man with open armes will me imbrace . But when the Sunne of fortune 'gins to ●et , They clutch their owne , hauing no more to get , Of a proud man Sylla would take the vpper hand of mee , Saying he was a better man then I ; I knew my selfe his better for to be . But yet the wall I gaue him willingly . The wall he tooke , and take it euer shall , For still the weakest goeth to the wall , The vnconstancie of a woman . A woman may be faire , and yet her minde , Is as vnconstant as the wauering wind , V●nus her selfe is faire , she shineth farre : Yet shee 's a Plane● , and no fixed starre . The pride of Bassa . If it be true as ancient Authors write ▪ That Blackamores do paint their Diuels white , Then why doth Bassa bragge that shee is faire , When such as shee most like the Diuels are : Of the Pyhsicians of our time . Twixt former times and ours there is great ods , For they held men that were Physicians gods , O what a happie age liue we in then , That haue such gods , before that they bee men ? Poore mens happinesse . Fortune doth fauour poore men most of all , They hope ●o rise : but rich men feare to fall . To a Shoomaker . Coriat shooes , and Shirt did neuer shift In his last voyage , would you know his drift ? It was because he scornd , that any one Should say , he was a shifting Companion , To a bald man . Caluus to combe his head doth take no care : For why , there breedes no nits where growes no haire Of the same man . Haire on my head I neuer slumber shall , Nor Caluus his , for he had none at all . To the Fowler . As Auceps walked with his Peece to ●●oote , Vpon a Toad by chance he set his foote , With that he straight-way started backe and said ; It was the fowlest Creature that was made , But say he what he will , I thinke not so , For he himselfe a Fowler was I know . Of a Stammerer . Balbus , with other men would angrie be Because they could not speake so well as he . For others speak but with their mouth , he know . But Balbus speaks both through the mouth and nose . Let no day passe without learning somewhat . By euer learning , Solon waxed old , For time he knew , was better farre then gold , Fortune would giue him gold , which would decay But fortune cannot giue him yesterday . No truth in Wine . Truth is in wine , but none can finde it there , For in your Tauerne , men will lie and sweare . Of a Painter . Priscus is excellent in making faces , For he his eies , his nose , his mouth displaces : Since he hath skill in making these alone , I wonder much he mendeth not his owne . Of a forsworne maide . Rosa being false and periur'd , once a friend Bid me contented be , and marke her end . But yet I care not , let my friend goe fiddle , And let him marke her end , I le marke her middle . The vnconstancie of time . Those men that trauell all the world about , Doe goe to finde the rarest fashions out , For all the newest fashions that we weare , We haue beyond Sea : They their fashions here ; But now the world of fashions seemeth drie , We looke to finde them in the starry skie . For if you looke it now this fashion 's new , To weare a starre on a Polony shoo . Of a Flatterer . The Dogge will euer barke before he bite , The Theefe will bid you stand , before hee 'le fight , Each lurking beast , with some sowre visage will Shew you a former signe of following ill : But Marcus yet is ten times worse then these , Whose hart is killing when his words do please . Of a Courtier . Man 's but a worme , the wisest sort doth say , Yet Clim the Courtier goes in fine array , So that if man's a worme till he 's deceast , He meanes to be a Silke-worme at the least . Of the death of Achilles . Achilles hear● no wound would hurt his minde No chance could fright , as we in storie finde : But yet he died when he did Paris feele Surely I thinke his heart was in his heele . Of a Boaster . When foolish Icarus like a bird would flie , With waxed wings he did ascend on hie ; But when that Phoebus saw his proud intent , Him head-long downe into the Sea he sent . Then Icarus cried , O that I had my wish , I would not be a bird but be a fish . The pride of Woman . Why women weare a Fall , I doe not know , Vnlesse it onely be to make a show ; It 's true indeed to pride they 're giuen all : And pride , the Prouerbe saies , must haue a fall . Of one without Teeth . To Fusca beefe and bacon's very loathsome , Chickens and Pigions are not very toothsome ; No maruell though if then shee cannot eate , She hath no teeth , and they are toothsome meate . Of a stubburne Woman My wife , while shee doth liue , her Will will take , For when shee dying is , no Will must make ; But if she 'le promise quickly for to die , I le grant her will , her life time willingly . Of false accusers or backbiters . When Codrus catches fleas , what ere he ailes , He kills them with his teeth , not with his nailes ; Saying , that man by man might blamelesse goe , If euery one would vse back-biters so . Of master Leech who ranne away . A pillar of the Church some Leech doe call , But such as he are Caterpillars all ; He 's fled to Rome , there 's roome for such as hee , We loue his roome , but not his company . The countenance descries the minde . If Phoebus good and bad doth see , t is signe Bassa is bad ; for she when Sol doth shine , Doth weare a maske , least to the pearing Sunne , Her countenance should tell what she hath done . An answer to Momus . Whilst I ; as I was wont , went neate and fine , Momus me delicatulum did call : This was the answere which I made to him , Take you but halfe the word , and I le take all . Of the Authors education . The Citie London to me life did giue , And Westminster did teach me how to liue : To whether place I doe most dutie owe , Good Readers tell mee , for I hardly know . Know thy selfe , that is , be not proude . Walking and meeting one not long agoe , I ask'd who t was ? he said , he did not know : I said , I know thee . So said he , I you : But he that knowes himselfe I neuer knew . Trust not too much to thy beautie . When Bassa walkes abroad , she paints her face , And then she would be seene in euery place : For then your Gallants who so ere they are , Vnder a colour will account her faire . Of a Leane man . When first of all I Macilent did see , An vgly spirit , I thought him for to be ; But since I know the cause he look'd so grim , Had hardly flesh enough to couer him . Of an Vsurer . Griper more money got then he could spend , By money which to others he did lend , Say what he will , he was no gainer yet : But he a Loser was , which so did get : To get by cooz'ning , was his whole pretence , By getting so , he lost his conscience . Of the same , Much gold you G●iper gather and corrade , By lending out to vse , a damned trade ; But whilst of gold you are a Hell-u-o , Much to the Diuell , much to Hell you owe . Of a great gormondising belly . Gaster did seeme to me to want his eyes , For he could neither see his legs nor thighes ; But yet it was not so , he had his sight , Only his belly hanged in his light . Of a Page . Sextus in old apparell still doth goe , Yet all his sute is new from top to toe : It is no maruell though , if this be true , His masters old apparell makes him new . Of a pratler hauing no teeth . Nature the teeth doth as an hedge ordaine , The nimble frisking tongue for to containe : No maruell then since that the hedge is out , If Fuscus tongue walketh so fast about . Necessitie hath no law . Florus did beate his Cooke and gan to sweare , Because his meate was rotten rosted there : Peace good sir , quoth the Cooke , need hath no law T is rotten rosted cause t was rotten raw . Of one without eares . Thraso vpon a pillar lost his eare , And euer since he hid that place with haire ; Now lest thou Thraso , or his friend would be , Cut off your lockes , that we your eares may see . The Pouertie of Irus . Irus vsing to lye vpon the ground , One morning vnder him a feather found , Haue I all night here line so hard ( quoth he ) Hauing but one poore feather vnder me ? I wonder much then how they take their ease , That night by night , lie on a bed of these . Of an ill wife . Priscus was weeping when his wife did die , Yet he was then in better case then I : I should be merry , and should thinke to thriue , Had I but his dead wife for mine aliue . A darke sentence or a riddle . As Sextus once was opening of a nut , With a sharpe knife his finger deepely cut : What signe is this quoth he can any tell ? T is signe quoth one , y' haue cut your finger well . Not so saith he , for now my finger's sore ; And I am sure that it was well before . Of the pouertie of Codrus . Codrus did serue a multitude with meate : Yet he himselfe had nothing for to eate : Some men may thinke this frolick misery , Or miserable liberality . Vermin did feede on him when he perhaps Did either feede on nothing or on scraps . Of a couetous man . Croesus is rich and gallant , faire and fat , Codrus , thou art but poore , and what to that ? When he is dead , tell Croesus this from me : More wormes will feed on him , then will on thee . Of a great drinker . Bid Gnatho heare a Sermon , then hee le say , Hee 's a drie fellow that doth preach to day ; But hee s a drier fellow sure , I thinke , That ne'er has from his nose a pot of drinke . Of the same . Gnatho did sweare that he would drinke no more , Flinging the beere away , cause it ran low . Nay faith , saies one , it is a sinne to spil't , For that is noble beere , that runs at Tilt. Of chast Loue . Many accuse me , cause I could doe nothing , Many accuse me , cause I was a slow thing ; But soft my Masters , I was politicke : For had not I beene slow , she had beene quicke . To a Cuckold . Cornutus calld his Wise , both Whore and Slut , Quoth she , you l neuer leaue your brawling but ; But what quoth he ? quoth she , the post or doore . For you haue hornes to but , if I me a whore . An Epigram . The Shopmen gallant goe , and spruse they are , And giue their workmen what they list for ware ; They drink good wine , they feed vpon Anchoues Sic vos non vobis , fertis aratra bones . An Epigram . When I in presse saw these things , not long since I iudgd they had beene tried by the bench ; For if the Iury once had gone vpon them , Lesse they 'd bin hangd or burnd , what had come on them . To G.F. Since you your selfe did breake , you cunning are Coozning your kindred thus with broken ware . To M. P. Sixe yeares I was a Seruant vnto thee , Had I seru'd one yeare more I had beene free , But since you got me once vpon the hip , You turnd me off , before my Prentiship . An Epigram . Cinna loued Rosa well , thinking her pure , And was not quiet till he made her sure , She married yet another , but the end Is this ; she 's Cinnaes wife , the others friend . To certaine Academians . You that so many precious houres loose , Fall close vnto my studie , let your Muse Thinke vpon nought but goodnes , starue , & pine , Before an houre passe without a line . For euen as the Riuer ebs and flowes , This trash and earthly treasure comes and goes , But learning lasts vntill the day of doome , Sea cannot sinke it , nor fire it consume . What if thy friends , thee meat nor money send ? Spend thy time well , thou hast enough to spend . What if thou beest by chance in prison cast ? Mongst those that are in want , thou 'lt find a wast . Nay one may come , thy face that ne'r did see , And set thee out , as one deliuer'd me .

A Loue Sonnet . I Loued a Lasse a faire one , As faire as e're was seene , Shee was indeed a rare one , Another Sheba Queene . But foole as then I was , I thought shee lou'd me too , But now alas sha 's left me , Falero , lero , loo . Her haire like gold did glister Each eye was like a starre , Shee did surpasse her sister , Which past all others farre . Shee would me honie call , She 'd ô she 'd kisse me too , But now alas sha 's left me . Falero , lero , loo . In Summer-time to Medley My loue and I would goe , The boat-men there stoode readie , My loue and I to rowe : For Creame there would we call , For Cakes , and for Prunes too , But now alasse sha 's left me , Falero lero loo . Many a merry meeting My loue and I haue had : She was my only sweeting , She made my heart full glad , The teares stood in her eies Like to the morning dew , But now alasse sha 's left me , Falero lero loo . And as abroad we walked , As Louers fashion is , Oft we sweetly talked , The Sun should steale a kisse : The winde vpon her lippes Likewise most sweetly blew But now alas sha 's left me , Falero , lero , loo . Her cheekes were like the Cherrie , Her skin as white as snow , When shee was blyth and merrie , She Angel-like did show : Her wast exceeding small , The fiues did fit her shooe , But now alasse sha 's left me , Falero , lero , loo . In Summer time or winter She had her hearts desire , I still did scorne to stint her From sugar , sacke , or fire : The world went round about , No cares we euer knew , But now alasse sha 's left me , Falero , lero , loo . As we walked home together , At midnight through the towne , To keepe away the weather , O're her I 'de cast my gowne : No cold my Loue should feele , What ere the heauens could doe , But now alasse sh 'as left me , Falero , lero , loo . Like Doues we would be billing , And clip and kisse so fast , Yet she would be vnwilling , That I should kisse the last ; They 're Iudas kisses now , Since that they prou'd vntrue . For now alasse sh 'as left me . Falero , lero , loo . To Maidens vowes and swearing , Henceforth no credit giue , You may giue them the hearing , But neuer them beleeue ; They are as false as faire , Vnconstant , fraile , vntrue , For mine alasse has left me . Falero , lero , loo . T was I that paid for all things , T was others dranke the wine , I cannot now recall things , Liue but a foole to pine . T was I that beat the bush , The bird to others flew , For she alasse hath left me , Falero , lero , loo . If euer that Dame Nature , For this false Louers sake , Another pleasing creature Like vnto her would make ; Let her remember this , To make the other true , For this alasse hath left me Falero , lero , loo . No riches now can raise me , No want makes me despaire , No miserie amaze me , Nor yet for want I care : I haue lost a world it selfe , My earthly heauen adue , Since shee alas hath left me . Falero , lero loo .

To his Loue fearing a Corriuall . THe poys'nous Spider and the lab'ring Bee , The one and selfesame flower daily suckes ; But yet in nature much they disagree : For poyson one , the other honie pluckes . You are the flower ( you know my meaning ) he The poys'nous Spider is , and I the Bee . But if you like that swelling creature best , Whose onely trap can but in snare a flie ; I 'le leaue my writing , and I 'le liue in rest , Vntill another Loue can like my eie . But , if you leauing me , me none can please , I 'le lingring liue in paine , I 'le pine in ease . I am the Bee , if thou wilt be the Hiue , Wherein no blacke nor poys'nous moisture lies ; I 'le be a painfull Bee , I 'le daily striue ▪ Home to returne to thee with loaden thighes : And in the winter , when all flowers perish , The hiue the Bee , the Bee the hiue shall cherish . T is not your fringe , your gloues , your bands , your lace , Your gold , your fathers goods that I desire ; But t is your golden haire , your comely face , T is that , O that , that sets my heart on fire : your hands , your heart , your loue , your comly hue , Makes me forget me selfe , remembring you O that I were a Hat for such a Head ! O that I were a Gloue for such a Hand ! O that I were your Sheets within your Bed ! O that I were your shoo whereon you stand ! To be your very smocke ! I 'de daily seeke , So that you would not shift me once a weeke .

Another to his Loue , seeing her walke in twilight . THe deepest waters haue the smoothest lookes , The fairest shirt may hide the foolest skin ; ●ad lines are often writ in gilded bookes , View not the out-side then , but looke within : Trie ere you trust , and if all things be true , Locke hands in hands , and seeke not for a new . I must confesse and will , I am but poore , But rich I am in loue , perhaps you know : But if you to some higher region soare , Disdaining for to take your flight so low , Take heed lest by some veh'mencie of weather , You chance to burne some , or scorch some other . But tell me sweete , if that thy mind be set Vpon some other man ; or if you know , What thing this Loue should be , if not as yet , I le teach you what a thing is loue ; O no : What thing is loue ? how can you learne of me , When first I learn'd to loue by seeing thee ? The prettie winding of thy comely head , The decent rowling of thy liuely eye , Thy tender Lilly hand , hath strucke me dead , Without a touch . No what is Loue ? 'T is I , 'T is you 't is you , 't is both together , You loue , I loue , both loues , sweete loue , come hither . I cast an eye vpon you yester-night , But Phoebus Horses went too great a pace , Vnwilling to afford me so much light , Wherein I plainely might discerne your face : In spight of Phoebus , nay in spight of you , I 'le looke , I 'le loue , 't is somewhat strange , but true

Desiring an answer from his Loue . IF that I an vnworthy of your loue , Let me be worthy of your answer yet , That I may know whether I must remoue My deare affection from you now , and set My mind vpon my bookes , which now I feare I spend in Loue-toyes and am ne'r the neere . Prethee , sweet Loue , some pretty thing indite , Let those thy pretty fingers hold a Pen ; Vpon some pretty piece of paper write , Nature made Maidens pretty , and not men . What Midas toucht was gold , you are so witty That what you write , or touch , or do , t is pretty . If you want Paper , Paper will I send you , If you want Inke , I le likewise send you Inke ; If that you want a Pen , a pen I le send you , What ere you want , if that I can but thinke What t is , I 'de freely giue it to you , so You would but send an answere ▪ I , or no : I doe not write to thee for hope of gaines ; But onely for to gaine thy loue , for then I prethee Rosa take a little paines ; Once more I prethee Rosa hold a Pen : I long to heare from thee , I faine would know An answere from thee quickly , I , or no , If it be I , then Rosa thou art mine , Then wil we spend our youthfull daies in pleasure If it be No , yet Rosa am I thine : What ere thy answer is , thou art my treasure . If that ( sweet heart ) youl 'd know the reason why It is because a Majdens No , is I.

An Answer to her Answer . SWeet Mistris Rosa , for whose onely sake I 'de run through fi●e and water , nay I 'de make A iourney through the dangerous vncouth places , I 'de measure all the world with weary paces To doe you good : nay more , I 'de lose my heart , Rather then haue your little finger smart : But when you chance to read the same , I flatter , You then will say ; but oh , it is no matter , Mocke , flout , neglect , disdaine , spit , spite , contemne I needes must loue my earthly Diadem . I flouted others once in misery , But other men may now well flout at me ; This is that drie and cursed punishment , Which all the gods aboue to me haue sent For all my faults . O see with pitty see , Sweete Loue , thy Loue in wofull misery , Whose eyes ne'r sleep , whose fancie still is doing , Since that he knew what did belong to wooing : Thou art the Cloth● that hath spun my thred , By which I seeme to liue , but yet am dead . But prethee Rosa , if thou 'lt stop my breath , Kill quicke , let me not liue a lingring death : Pitty , pitty , pitty , pitty , pitty , Pretty , pretty , pretty , pretty , pretty , Sweete , golden , lilly , liuely , tender maide . Looke , like , liue , loue me well , and I am made .

To his second Loue . Twixt hope & feare , I feare ( sweet loue ) I liue Thinking my heart was giuen long agoe ; Being one man ha's but one heart to giue , How can you looke for mine , yet thinke not so ? But trye me , trust me , and sweet heart , you 'l see , I haue a heart that 's onely kept for thee . Misdoubt me not , although I lou'd before , Misdoubt me not , but I lou'd faithfully ; Experience makes me now loue ten times more , I haue my lesson now without booke , I : When first I lou'd , I was a fondling foole , Now I am a Captaine made in Cupids schoole . You smilde on me , but if you le smile no more , What will those men that know me now surmise Being I was forsaken once before , They le thinke me hatefull in a Maidens eyes : They le thinke all hate me , or suppose indeed , I onely came to woo , but not to speed . O how much am I bound to Nature now , For making thee , that dost so farre excell Her whom I thought excell'd all others ? how Am I bound to Nature prethee tell . The difference twixt my first loue , and you Is this , shee 's faire and false , thou faire and true . Misdoubt me not , for by the Heauens aboue , Thou shalt not finde me with a double tongue ; For if I am the man thou canst not loue , I am the man that will doe thee no wrong . For if I speake by thee but any euill , Count me no more a Man , count me a Diuell .

Of the burning of his Letter . LIke as the Moth about the candle flies , Hoping to haue some comfort from the light , Scorcheth her wings , and on a sudden lies Panting vpon the ground , or burned quite : So I still hoping thee sweete heart , to moue , Consume my selfe in burning flames of loue . Alas , alas , thy beauty shines so bright ▪ It duls and dazels all that doe come nie thee , This is the cause I neuer come , but write , Without an Eagles eye , how dare I eye thee ? Cupid is blinde ; then I in louing thee , And looking too , should be more blind then he . Why doe I sigh , and sob , and broyle , and burne ? Why doe I seeke to striue against the streame ? Letters , nor loue , nor lookes , thy heart can turne . Why doe I then make loue my onely theame ? I loue , you hate ; I write , but what the better ? I burne in loue , and you doe burne my letter . Poore harmelesse verses , what did ye commit ? Hard-hearted Flora , how did they offend thee ? More verses haue I made for thee , but yet I le sweare thou shalt not burne the next I le send thee Burning's too base a death , therefore the rest , If they deserue to die , they shall be prest .

Master Iohnsons answer to Master Withers . Withers . SHall I wasting in despaire , Die because a woman's faire , Or my cheekes make pale with care , Cause anothers Rosie are ? Be she fairer then the day , Or the flowry Meades in May , If she be not so to me , What care I how faire she be ? Iohnson . Shall I mine affections slacke , Cause I see a womans blacke , Or my selfe with care cast downe , Cause I see a woman browne ? Be she blacker then the night , Or the blackest let in sight . If shee be not so to me , What care I how blacke shee be ? Withers . Shall my foolish heart be pinde , 'Cause I see a woman's kinde , Or a well disposed nature Ioyned in a comely feature ? Be shee kinde or meeker than Turtle Doue or Pelican ; If shee be not so to me , What care I how kind shee be ? Iohnson . Shall my foolish heart be brust , Cause I see a woman 's curst , Or a thwarting hoggish nature Ioyned in as bad a feature ? Be she curst or fiercer then Brutish Beast , or sauage Men : If shee not so to me , What care I how curst shee be ? Withers . Shall a womans vertues make Me to perish for her ●ake , Or her merits value knowne , Make me quite forget my owne ? Be she with that goodnesse blest , That may merit name of best : If shee seeme not so to me , What care I how good shee be ? Iohnson . Shall a womans vices make Me her vices quite forsake , Or her faults to me made knowne , Make me thinke that I haue none ? Be she of the most accurst , And deserue the name of worst : If she be not so to me , What care I how bad she be ? Withers . 'Cause her fortunes seeme too high , Should I play the foole and die ? He that beares a noble mind , If not outward helpe hee find , Thinke what with them he would do That without them dares to woo . And vnlesse that mind I see , What care I how great she be ? Iohnson . 'Cause her fortunes seeme too low , Shall I therefore let her goe ? He that beares an humble mind , And with riches can be kind , Thinke how kind a heart he 'd haue , If he were some seruile slaue . And if that same minde I see , What care I how poore she bee ? Withers . Great , or good , or kind , or faire I will ne'r the more despaire , If shee loue me , then beleeue I will die , ere she shall grieue : If she flight me , when I woo , I can flight and bid her go : If she be not fit for me , What care I for whom she bee ? Iohnson . Poore , or bad , or curst , or blacke , I will ne'r the more be slacke ▪ If she hate me , then beleeue , She shall die , ere I will griue : If she like me when I woo , I can like and loue her too : If that she be fit for me , What care I what others be ?

To the Reader . IT is common custome now adayes , For one to write vpon anothers prayse : But I no Trumpet seeke , no sound of drums , No man for me shall make Encomium●● Their Verses cannot make these Verses better , They will not mead a staffe , a line , a letter .

The Cryes of Ludgate . NOble King Lud , long here hast thou stood , Not framed of wood , But of stones ; Stones sure thou art , like our Creditors heart , Which cares not a — For our grones , Within thy gates , the crie at thy grates , Though it moues the States of this Citie : Our calling , our bawling , or yawling it moues not Our Creditors hearts vnto pittie : In caps , and in Coates , with sorrowfull notes , And tearing our throates For reliefe , Good Sir , we crie , with a Box hanging by , Heer 's a hundred that lie Full of griefe . The Gallants ride on , and ne'r think vpon Our pittifull mone Which we make : But rumbling , and tumbling , and iumbling their Coaches , The stones in the streets they doe shake . Merchants that goe by the gate to and fro , Their hearts at our woe , Seeme to shake , Thinking what crosses , what griefe , & what losses , When their Carackes to Seas They take . These men are best , remorse in their brest Doth harbour and rest To the needie , Th●y roundly , profoundly , and soundly are giuing As if they to free them were greedie . Others passe by , and cast vp an eie Vpon that crie , In disdaine , Saying , that we all quickly would be , If now were free , here againe . Let them take heed , that mocke vs indeed , ‛ And thus at our need goe by grinning , T is so man , that no man , can know man his ending , Though well he may know his beginning .

The Song of the Begger . I Am a Rogue and a stout one , A most couragious drinker , I doe excell , 't is knowne full well , The Ratter , Tom , and Tinker . Still doe I cry , good your Worship , good Sir , Bestow one small Denire Sir , And brauely at the bousing Ken I le bouse it all in Beere Sir . If a Bung be got by the hie Law , Then straight I doe attend them , For if Hue and Crie doe follow , I A wrong way soone doe send them . Still I doe cry , &c. Ten miles vnto a Market , I runne to meet a Miser , Then in a throng , I ●ip his Bung , And the partie ne'er the wiser . Still doe I cry , &c. My daintie Dals , my Doxis , When e'er they see me lacking , Without delay poore wretches they Will set their Duds a packing . Still doe I cry , &c. pay for what I call for , And so perforce it must be , For as yet I can , not know the man , Nor Oastis that will trust me . Still I doe cry , &c. If any giue me lodging , A courteous Knaue they find me , For in their bed , aliue or dead I leaue some Lice behind me , Still doe I cry , &c. If a Gentrie Coe be comming , Then straight it is our fashion , My Legge I tie , close to my thigh , To moue him to compassion . Still doe I cry , &c. My doubler sleeue hangs emptie , And for to begge the bolder , For meate and drinke , mine arme I shrinke Vp close vnto my shoulder . Still doe I cry , &c. If a Coach I heare be rumbling To my Crutches then I hie me . For being lame , it is a shame ▪ Such Gallants should denie me . Still doe I cry , &c. With a seeming bursten belly , I looke like one halfe dead Sir , Or else I beg with a woodden legge , And a Night-cap on me head Sir . Still doe I cry , &c. In Winter time starke naked I come into some Citie , Then euery man that spare them can , Will giue me clothes for pittie . Still doe I cry , &c. If from out the Low-countrie , I heare a Captaines name Sir , Then strait I swe●e I haue bin there ; And so in fight came lame Sir . Still doe I cry , &c. My Dogge in a string doth lead me , When in the Towne I goe Sir ▪ For to the blind all men are kind , And will their Almes bestow Sir , Sill doe I cry , &c. With Switches sometimes stand I , In the ●●●●ome of a Hill Sir , There t●ose men which doe want a Switch , Some ●onie giue me still Sir . Still doe I cry , &c. Come buy , come buy a Horne-booke , Who buyes my Pins or Needles ? In Cities I these things doe crie , Oft times to scape the Beadles . Still doe I cry , &c. In Pauls Church by a Pillar ; Sometimes you see me stand Sir , With a Writ that showes , what care and woes I past by Sea and Land Sir . Still doe I cry , &c. Now blame me not for boasting , And bragging thus alone Sir , For my selfe I will be praysing still , For Neighbours haue I none Sir . Which makes me cry good your Worship , good Sir , Bestow one small Denire Sir , And brauely then at the Bousing Ken , I le bouse it all in Beere Sir . FINIS .