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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A76747 The birth, life, death, wil, and epitaph, of Iack Puffe Gentleman. 1642 (1642) Wing B2979; Thomason E150_1; ESTC R15035 2,319 8

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THE BIRTH LIFE DEATH VVIL AND EPITAPH OF IACK PVFFE GENTLEMAN London Printed for T.P. 1642. The Birth Life Death VVill and Epitaph of Iacke Puffe Gentleman THe people shun the wall loe here he comes With fierce aspect the ●●lgar before runs To see his stradling gate his hat advanc't His down cast eye upon his boots are glanct Who huggs himselfe he 's view'd so strangely fine But one cryes there 's a changeling of the time A moorcalfe that doth change so of his shope In cloaths as doth the Moone her bulke abate Stay cries a second you have fed enough All this same creature ●hat you see 's a puffe A blast a vapour that only a yeare Can make Invisible for to appeare His birth did make his mothers mountaine shake While all the women did stand by and quake As did the people in old Aesops time At the shockt mount when forth a Mouse did clime So did this creature this same peece of stuffe Appeare but forth at last came out a puffe But now grown up as innocently good As he is ignorant so long he stood From ill but now he is to London come For to see fashions for fashion he 's undone And must be ill for if he be nor then He is not so as other Gentlemen And to become a gradiate of the time He learnes the fashions for to make him fine Then next to scoffe and flout a Citizen Tearming them Round heads for that they begin To aske their debts but stay let me not erre In blaming him who loves his Crediter One that doth meane to pay but alas he Thinkes it belongs not to Gentility For 't is his glory who thus can speake I in one yeare ten Taylors did breake And now grown impupent him next degree Is to despise all manners that here be For 't is the Frenchman doth his only please Who buyed their formes they give him their disease So that the vapour is all frenchified With our stucke b●nim streight breech and spit at side More foole then feather lesse wit then haire Though there is one thing that in him is rare A true decorum each in him doth find A simple carriage to a foolish mind No puritane I vow I thinke he 's none For what he is he glories to make knowne He will not minde his othes or sticke to swere God dame him doth he man or Diveil feare Not cares he for his credit unto men If that the person be a Citizen But here he playes the Pope that doth no sticke To brearke all faith with an Heriticke He with a Citizen what shall I pay My money to a Round head let him stay I le see ●he rogue first damd my whore shall have A gown my mony is not for a slave Now sweld with debt our Puffe to France is blowne England unworthy is of such a one A land that borrowes all their wit from France Who can't like them on anticke forme advance They only by the vertue of the shire Can make a Country puffe so wife appeare That when he 's caist in a new sute of cloathes No Councellor carries so high his nose But nere before his mothers curds and c came Could adde to make him thus so wifely seeme Ariv'd in France he doth not long remaine Another puffe soone puffes him backe again But all be frenchifide he vowes the nation From all the world to excell in fashion His Countries vile they clownes that in it dwell But France in cloaths and complement excell Shrowded in a strange garbe he walkes the streete At l●st his Creditor doth chance to meet Who ha●●ly now can know him by his feature and is amaz'd who should be this creature Vnto himselfe them speakes is this not him Whom that a yeare ago I ware did bring Sure his the same or whosoere he be I le venture to arest his bravery P●ffe then arested takes his next degree Within the Counters Vniversity A staid m●n now he is for he is none Of those that doth not keept themselves at home Bu● here he doth not rest himselfe so long B●● all his cloaths and meanes is spent and gone That like some ancient escuchion he doth seeme All tattered in shew of no esteeme Save that he 's honoured of som and for He beares the coate of his brave ancestor Who was a man perhaps of worth and Spirit Whose son doth but his meanes not mind inherit But Puffe not long within the Counter lie's But that with melancholy streight he dyes For being ript within was quickly found Bills bonds and notes of debt that all lay round His heart that all men present did suppose The weight of these thus soone his eyes did close His will he left but 'las 't was his last will H●d't been his first his wealth he had kept still That all as he did now should hate a whore For that and wine did make him dye thus poore N●xt that no gallant should not ought suppose That Prayers and glory doth consist in cloathes Or for to court a wench with words compil'd Such ever fame hath from her court exil'd But that they ra●her should enrich their mind W●th armes and arts 't is those that fame doth find Next in his will he Legacies did give First all his vices with our blades to live And for his French disease he did bequeath To all those blades that cannot women leave Next that the Prentices should have his cloaths To make shooclouts for the shooes of those Their Masters which before he had abus'd With n●me of Round-heads and their debts refus'd As for his soule I thinke it was forgot In 's life for here in 's will we find it not He never thought of it sure to bequeath He ever that did to God's mercy leave His Epitaph HEre lyes Iack Puffe wrapt up in his skin For want of a shirt he lveth thus thin Who like cut grasse did live but a day The sunshine of beauty soone burnt him to hay His bladder of life by death being prick't The bladder shrinkes up Puffe out soone then skip't The great misse of winde might soone cause his death For how can a puffe be ought without breath But where he is gone I hardly can tell Vnlesse he doth with Boreas dwell That as in his life so after his death He might keepe a storm●ng here still upon Earth FINIS