stronger And as the evening shadow grows still longer So custome spreds it selfe This one thing know Thou 'st age enough to match with fiends below If thou be married 't is the breach of truth Betwixt thee and the partner of thy youth Which curses will requite 't will be a blot To thee and thine for ever and thy lot Will be the like or worse such men do find Lex talionis paid home in their kind If thou art single and thy lust prove strong Prevent the worst by Marriage tarrying long May force the floods to overflow the banks Then men grow fearelesse fit for hellish pranks This sin is never single it must be Ioyn'd with anothers in adultery As though the guilty threatning to rebell Breath'd out disdaine to go alone to hell He beares the double sin though they agreed A little time to sin this shame full deed When done 't will breed them everlasting odds They 're painted roses which do turne to rods Looke on the imperfections of a whore Some in her person but sh 'as worse and more In disposition if thou hast but wit This thing alone may ' swage thy frenzy fit But if thou hast no skil or art in doubt Bring her to me I 'le help to find ' emout But if thy lust exceed in strength being great Starve it with hunger and asswage the heat With faire coole water drink nor wine nor beere Till thou hast purg'd thy soule and made all cleare Refuse no counsell let it pierce thy heart And welcome a reproofe though it seemes smart To thee 't is wholsome company with such That hate this vice and love good for there 's much Good gotten by them they 've no poison'd breath In life like such as thou wouldst have at death Give up thy selfe to Christ then thou maist say Thou' rt not thine own thou canst not go astray To joyne with harlots for thy soul 's bespoken The marriage day is set his love 's the token Of thy eternal good Hee 'le ever keep Thee from those vermine that about thee creep Here 's profit pleasure everlasting gaine Which with consent wil banish all thy paine View heavens glory fixing still thine eyes With confidence to pierce the lofty skyes And look beyond thy sense and silence reason Note well the beauty take the blessed season To raise thy heart see what reward those find That were not foyl'd with lust or womankind But when thou look'st take this advise of mine Thinc eyes thy heart thy ends must be Divine Then turne thine eyes tow'ards hel where thou maist see The plagues the torments and the misery That hel-hounds do indure and that will make Thy raging lust grow tame thy heart wil ake To think the swallowing of a blasted pleasure Should gender wrath endlesse in weight and measure The potion's mingled those that drink that cup Their streames of lust will soon be dryed up Their dainty pallats thirst th' insatiate whore With roaring Tom shall act that sin no more Their moystur's gone but there 's the greater fire Mixe stil with brimstone that 's the whorish hire There are no beauties no nor light to see Except t' be shame and sins deformitie They dwell with devils and their inward room Is burning hell their prison and their tomb What if thou shouldst when none of these will take Destroy a member some for heavens sake Have done as much 't is better thou shouldst cast One part away than lose thy selfe at last Mistake me not I doe not prompt thee to it If former meanes prevaile thou maist not doe it To save his soule who is 't that would not use A certaine cure pray here my pen excuse There 's nothing else except time dos afford Fresh remedies being ancient he is stor'd With cures both old and new the sinner old Will leave his lust or that him 'cause he 's cold For physick helps those that professe that Art Can shew thee which will calme thy boyling heart If that should misse I think this will not faile Live like a begging Fryar in a jayle Stone wals and iron grates are very good To temper thee and qualifie thy blood But if it be a woman she must shun Her liberty work hard not like a Nun To stitch a gorget but to turne a mill Or draw a wheelbarrow though against her will There are appointed places 'mong the rest If I may judge the Bridewels are the best And let the whip lye always in her sight Let blew-cote beadles lock her up at night And call her early up let time be inch't And of her labour let her not be pinch't There 's one thing more which I am loth to name 'T will strange Iust but 't will preferre thy shame Probatum est 't is nothing but a rope Made fast and loose 't is all the hangmans hope Thy hope thy pleasure with thy life will end 'T is then too late to say thou wilt amend The hangman's still in haste the carmans pay Will not availe to tarry halfe a day The Priest will pray but he is never long He has it ready when he holds his tongue The pangs of death come on thee when thy face Is cover'd ore oh what a fearefull cale Art thou in then the men in post will ride But when they come and find thee dead fast tyde Vnto a halters end the people gone To Gregory and thy grave thou' rt left alone But where abides thy soule ' las who can know I feare 't will be confin'd to dwell below Remember what I say read o're this book Perhaps thou maist in reading love to looke Vpon thine own estate learne to be wise 'T is sharp but wholsome 't will not blast thine eyes If 't will but turne thy heart 't will quit the cost Or strengthen any 't is not labour lost The guiltlesse and the convert shall for mee Go uncontroll'd Then let my Muse passe free Read it with patience take what is thy due I he are the whispring of a bawdy crue I needs must answer them Or they 'l abuse My harmlesse meaning and my free-borne Muse. SECT 56. The supposed railing objections imprecations of the filthy brood against the Author and the Book A Bawdy knot being met having found The Nights Search trenching in their common ground Began to grumble first the Bawd did speak â— A busie foole whose brains are sunk or weak Hath writ a book 't was principally made To shame us all and overthrow our trade I heard a gallant speak as if it came Post with a whip in Tom a' Bedlams name 'T is arm'd with fury every line spits fire I wish a halter were the Authours hire Pand. I 've bought the book I heard 't was new come out I have it here to put you out of doubt He rails he frets with biting jeers in scoffe Keeps much ado yet comes but poorly off He writes of whipping pillering and carting Burning curses hanging too at parting Bawd Let
his although there 's not his name But vertue in her beauty he hath knowne He makes all sure and takes her for his owne Then spreads her beauty that the world may see Shee 's lovely in herselfe and all may be Corivals in this match for she will do Favours to men and yet be modest too He is a maker not alone of verse But of the matter too he doth rehearse Much substance in a word he can compose His lofty fancies or in verse or prose But if in verse how smoothly doth it glide Into the heart the memory beside Retaines it best his raptures do translate The mindes of some into a happy state His numbers with his measures do agree The accents meet with such sweet harmony The emphasis is raised with such grace That all concurs to keep both time and place Good language in his lines he doth expresse His couplings joyne with sense he is no lesse Than heire to Parnassus h 'had such a draught At Helicon that he is rightly taught To speake the native tone of all the nine But courts Vrania 'cause she is divine What ere his measures are or short or long Lyricks or Saphicks if he frames his song Iambique like or if Pentameters Or double meeters or Hexameters Or if he pitch upon Heroick straines 'T will speak his praise because his season'd braines Cast out no drosse he 's modest in his line What ere his subject be his worth will shine True profit and delight do meet together In his conceits although the foole findes neither His lines are stor'd with witty usefull pleasure Though idiots sleight wise men will prize his treasure His company is sweet to those that know How to make use on 't but he 'll seldome throw His breath away upon a scornfull asse A brute he came and so he 'll let him passe He takes nor fables nor conceited dreams Nor idle fictions to make up his theames Yet he will use them onely to allude To good or ill to shame the multitude If melancholy then he 's wise and grave Griefe sorrow death are subjects he will have To work upon he gives his words by weight With vaine delights he 's quite out of conceit If he be pleasant all his writings tend To take men with delight he will commend A little good to make 'em love the rest He 's sad'mongst bad men merry with the best He 'll dash an evill out of favour then He 'll let it blood but comfort up the men He slights the world nor will he ever be A favorite to prodigalitie He 's free to all regarding not his store And that 's the reason he is often poore He hates lascivious rimes he 'll not applaud A faire fac'd whore nor yet the common bawd But whip 'em still for he will ever prie In secret places where most dangers lie He 's noble-minded not a sordid else He strives to know and to enjoy himselfe Nor will he flatter great ones for a fee Whose worth lies in their wealth for such as he Are able to discerne nor will he sawne Vpon his patrons laying truth to pawne In every line unlesse in him he finde An honest heart grac'd with a noble minde Not like a temporizer who will hold Pace with his vices onely for his gold Who seribles much and shamefull praise doth gaine T 'had better bin undone for time will staine His name for ever most men do detest All verses for his sake but yet the rest Are ne're the worse for such this time I borrow I have digress'd I le speak of him to morrow But this ingenious Poet doth rehearse Things as they are or should be and his verse Not stuft with clouded words or conjuring straines Nor thunder-claps which might distract the braines Of honest readers but in tearmes most fit T' expresse his matter and to teach them wit He doth refine conceits and raise them higher His musique's next unto the angels quire Nor doth he spin it thred-bare he 'll begin New fancies as he goes the spring within Runs alwayes fresh he doth not trade abroad With borrowed wit nor tread the beaten road His Genius works when other men do sleepe His aimes are heavenly and his judgements deepe He 's humble still you cannot make him know His owne desert he 's not a man for show He doth not search for praise he loaths all such He thinks he 's simple though he knows so much But yet to shew the vilenesse of that brood That doe prefer their humours hate all good Hee 'll baffle such men and he scorns the nest Of venom-coupledsots silence is best To answer such back-biters he will slight Detracting vassals that will vomit spight At what they know not and will look asquint On things of worth what ere has most worth in 't They slubber most with gall in all that 's evill They 'll goe as far and be as like the Devill As all their wit can make them oh but then They 'll fall with shame before the Poets pen. Though they like Xerxes whip the sea and send A challenge to the hils yet in the end The sea 's too strong the mountaines are too high For fooles to clamber so like fooles they die This honest Poet finds among the wise His due respect for they have learn'd to prize Persons and things of worth and still his bent Is how to shame the vile and give content To all the best Come take him as you find him Hee 'll think of you though you doe never mind him Turne all his verse to prose it beares the sense And lustre of a poem and from thence True worth doth spring The Poets first did teach Humanitie to men made up the breach That rudenesse made all usefull Arts were cloath'd VVith Poets wit why should it then be loath'd The learned'st in the languages rehearse Much of the sacred text was writ in verse As some of Moses law the Psalmes the Song Of Solomon the holy peoples wrong Vnder their foes by Ieremy related The booke of Iob and all the songs were stated In measur'd Meeters who would verse disdaine When Poets have such patterns for their straine He that 's Dramatick and doth purge the stage From scurrill drosse and shewes this simple age Their moulded trophies and doth always strive To keep both persons names and things alive His end is good but idiots learne by this How to contrive their ways to do amisse Some there conclude of late I heard one say I must go meet a whore at such a play What pity 't is such time with wit and cost Should be bestow'd and prove but labour lost This was invented chiefly to be us'd By Kings and Nobles not to be abus'd By hackney truls but now I must returne To lay my honest Poet in his urne For having spent his time well now h 'as past His life to death the hungry grave at last Is clos'd upon him there he must abide Vntill his just and
's see the book had'st thou so little wit To buy such trash I 'le serve thee now as fit One part shall serve to stop the mustard pot I 'le burn the rest and that shall be its lot A foole and 's money quickly part I see That thou art vext wilt be reveng'd on me Whore Pray mistris let it lie to keep all clean 'T will serve for waste you know well what I mean One of my friends shall write to his disgrace To shew his wit and in some publique place Cast out a libell that the world may know His wit is blasted onely wit in shew Pand. I 'me vext to heare you did I buy this book To have it burnt or tore great pains I took To find it out pray blame me not to frown To see it spoil'd it cost me halfe a crown But bear your shares we 'l keep 't to shame this sinner Make it our recreation after dinner To laugh at 's folly then 't will serve to light Tobacco for us every winters night Bawd Thou simple foole dost think I le have it lse Within my house our trading to discry Some feather'd goose may see 't and with a fright Forsake the house and take a further flight Pray burn it burn it if that asse were here That made the book we 'ld burn him to or teare His skin from 's flesh then he should know how well The place and persons do resemble hell But 't is no matter none that loves the sport Of Vénus or attends at Cupids Court Will e're regard it but to laugh and jest At his course wit I value not the rest Who. If I may judge I think he hath been crost In his desire he hath a beauty lost Or else his stock is spent and being poore He cannot passe so freely to his whore As formerly he did and now in rage He for her sake brings all upon the stage Or being old his vigour is abated What he lov'd once he 'd make all think he hated Thus ab initio now he writes to strive When all things faile to keepe his name alive Could he have known our private wayes or been Our Secretary if he had not seen The windings of the clew or toucht the sore If he by practice had not known 't before Or else he wanting naturall affections Would have sweet nature follow his drections He has been in some service overcharg'd The mark was hot and being now enlarg'd From Bedlam New-gate or Chirurg'ons hands He cannot feele the ground on which he stands I have been bred to this it is my course I 'd better be a whore than to doe worse Bawd I am grown old nor can I now take paines This is my trade which brings me constant gaines Should I forsake it now then call me foole I have not liv'd so long to goo to schoole To such a haire-braind coxcombe no I will Beare up delight drink and be merry still He 'd make us think if flesh and blood rebell There is no help but we must goe to hell We know that many with those faults are tainted Yet some were goddesses and some were Sainted Why should I fear but I as well may speed The Queen of Love I never did exceed Pand. I came to town thinking to be a groom But when I came another had the room That I was to supply and having spent My time my means being in discontent I took this honest course to gain reliefe There 's none can say I am a rogue or thiefe And yet forsooth here 's one hath undertook To prove us theeves and sentence pass'd nor book Will he allow which arrant theeves have had Why do I speak this peevish fellow 's mad Pimp I have been brought up in a gentile way To drink to swear to whore to dice and play I sold my lands and spent my whole estate What should I do being thus unfortunate I am a man that do attend those Lasses That feed me full I drink in boules and glasses They give me coin and cloths with them I finde Such dainty bits as satisfie my minde Let shame attend this idiot let his pen Be silenc'd forc'd to blot out this agen SECT 57. The railing Objections of an impious crew answered YOu brood of darknesse that do hate the light And breath out venome railing cursing spight Against the Authour and his searching Muse You shame your selves you cannot him abuse The Bawd that 's parboil'd or the Whore that 's stew'd The rotten Pander and the Pimp that su'd To have his Muse quite silent hear th' reply Your breath 's unwholsome pray come not too nigh But you are powder'd that me thinks is well To qualifie the stink and ' swage the smell I do confesse the book was made to fright And shame your rabble that true subjects might Be warn'd by your example hate your crew If I be mad I 'm onely mad to you If I would hide your shame your humours feed Or act such basenesse I were mad indeed What gallant 's that that doth these lines oppose Doth he speak plain or snuffle in the nose Or are his sinewes lost or onely shrunk Or has he been at flats and being sunk Blows fume into his braines his words may please Your fretting fancies but not give you ease Is not his face halfe rosted is 't not rich With Rubies Pearls and Saphires none of which Will passe for gold to satisfie his whore Although his face be rich his purse is poore Or do's his face seem cover'd o're with tallow Or has disease dy'd it into a yellow How opens he his jawes has he his haire Or is he mop'd a new with borrowed ware I feare it is not safe with him to sup Nor is it wholsome e're to taste his cup I know the earth doth bear such loathsome men What their mouth 's take in runs through th'nose agen Butlet him passe Except the Bawd doth turn What e're she wish I fear she 'l hang or burn The Pander got of late a greater share For keeping of the dore that he could spare Money to buy this book but now 't is cast Bawd Pander Whore have sentence on it past Butlet me speak a word t is but a breath If it must die let it be prest to death What libeller is this the whore would have Write to disgrace the Authour let me crave To know what place he lives in let his name Be known that all may blaze abroad his shame There are a crew that do cast libels forth Against the State to slander men of worth They bend their frothy wits but time may make Them bear their shame the rest may warning take The Pander's vext put to your helping hands Pay for the book for as the case now stands You must not burn it you may laugh 't is true But 's fellowes are alive to laugh at you Make it your sport jeere on you need not say 'T will shame an asse or fright a goose