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A06703 Micro-cynicon. Sixe snarling satyres Insatiat Cron. Prodigall Zodon. Insolent Superbia. Cheating Droone. Ingling Pyander. Wise Innocent. Middleton, Thomas, d. 1627, attributed name. 1599 (1599) STC 17154; ESTC S109774 9,244 42

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Micro-cynicon SIXE SNARling Satyres Insatiat Cron. Prodigall Zodon Insolent Superbia Cheating Droone Ingling Pyander Wise Innocent Adsis pulcher homo canis hic tibi pulcher emendo Imprinted at London by Thomas Creede for Thomas Bushell and are to be sold at his shop at the North doore of Paules Church 1599. His defiance to Enuy. ENuy which makst thy selfe in commō guise To haunt deseruers and to hunt desarts Hard-soft cold-hot well-euill foolish-wise Misse contrarities agreeing parts Auant I say ile anger thee inough And fold thy firy-eyes in thy smazkie snufe Defiance resolution and neglects True trine of barres against thy false assault Defies resolues defiance and reiects Thy interest to claime the smallest fault Thou lawlesse landlady poore Prodigall Sowre solace Credits Crack Feares Festiuall More angry Satyr-dayes ile muster vp Then thou canst challenge letters in thy name My Negrum true borne inck no more shall sup Thy stayned blemish charracterd in blame My pens two nebs shall turne vnto a forke Chasing old Enuy from so young a worke I but the Authors mouth bid thee auaunt He more defies thy Hate thy hūt thy haunt T. M. Gent. The Authors Prologue 1. Booke DIsmounted from the hie aspiring hils Which the all emptie airie Kingdome fils Leauing the scorched moūtains threatning heuē Frō whence fel fierie rage my soule hath driuē Passing the downe steepe vallies all in hast Haue tript it through the woods now at last Am vaild with a stonie sanctuarie To saue my Ire stuft soule least it miscarie From threating stormes ore'turning veritie That shames to see truthes refined puritie Those open plains those hie skie kissing moūts Wher huffing winds cast vp their airy accounts Were too too open shelter yeelding none So that the blasts did tyrannize vpon The naked Carkasse of my heauie soule And with their furie all my all controule But now enuiron'd with a brazen Tower I little dread their stormie raging power Witnesse this blacke defying Embassie That wanders them beforne in maiestie Vndaunted of their bugbare threatning words Whose proud aspiring vaunts time past records Now windie Parasites or the the slaues of wine That wind from al things saue the truth diuine Winde turne and tosse into the depth of spight Your diuellish venome cannot me affright It is a Cordiall of a Candie taste Ile drinke it vp and then let't run at waste Whose drugie Lees mixt with the liquid flood Of muddy fell defiance as it stood Ile belch into your throates all open wide Whose gaping swallow nothing runs beside And if it venome take it as you list He spights himselfe that spights a Satyrist THE FIRST BOOKE Insatiat Cron. Satyre 1. Cur eget indignus quisquam te diuite TIme was when down declining toothlesse age Was of a holy and diuine presage Diuining prudent and foretelling truth In sacred points instructing wandring youth But oh detraction of our latter daies How much from veritie this age estraies Raunging the bryerie desarts of blacke sin Seeking a dismall caue to reuell in This latter age or member of that time Of whom my snarling muse now thūdreth rime Wandred the brackes vntill a hidden Cell He found at length and still therin doth dwell The house of gaine insatiat it is Which this hore aged pesant deemes his blis Oh that desire might hunt amongst that fur It should go hard but he would loose a cur To rowse the fox hid in a bramble bush Who frighteth conscience with a wrimouth'd push But what need I to wish or would it thus When I may find him starting at the burs Where he infecteth other pregnant wits Making them Coheires to his damned fits There may you see this writhen faced masse Of rotten mouldring clay that prating asse That riddles wonders meere compact of lies Of heauen of hell of earth and of the skies Of heauen thus he reasons heauen theres none Vnles it be within his mantion Oh there is heauen why because theres gold That from the late to this last age controld The massie scepter of Earthes hauenly round Exiling forth her siluer paued bound The Leaders brethren brazen counterfets That in this golden age contempt begets Vaunt then I mortall I I onely King And golden God of this eternall being Of Hell Cymerian thus Auarus reasons Though hell be hot yet it obserueth seasons Hauing within his Kingdome residence Ore which his godhead hath preheminence An obscure angell of his Heauen it is Wherein's containd that Hell deuouring blis Into this Hell sometimes an Angell fals Whose white aspect black forlorn soules appals And that is when a Saint beleeuing gold Old in that heauen yong in being old Falls headlong downe into that pit of woe Fit for such damned creatures ouerthrow To make this publike that obscured lies And more apparant vulgar secrecies To make this plaine harsh vnto common wits Simplicitie in common iudgement sits This down-cast angell or declining saint Is greedy Croone when Cron makes his compt For his poore creditors falne to decay Being bankerouts take heeles and run away Then franticke Cron gald to the very hart In some by corner playes a diuels part Repining at the losse of so much pelfe And in a humor goes and hangs himselfe So of a saint a diuell Cron is made The diuel lou'd Cron and Cron the diuels trade Thus may you see such angels often fall Making a working day a festiuall Now to the third point of his deitie And that's th'earth thus reasons credulitie Credulous Cron Cron credulous in all Sweares that his kingdome is in generall As he is Regent of this Heauen and Hell So of the Earth all others hee'le expell The Skies at his dispose the Earth his owne And if Cron please all must be ouerthrowne Cron Crō aduise thee Crō with the copper nose And be not rulde so much by false suppose Least Crons professing holinesse turne euil And of a false god proue a perfect diuil I prithee Cron find out some other talke Make not the Burse a place for spirits to walke For doubtlesse if thy damned lies take place Destruction followes farwell sacred grace Th'Exchāge for goodly Merchāts is appointed Why not for me sayes Cron mine annointed Can Marchants thriue and not the Vse'r nie Can Marchants liue without my companie No Cron helps all and Cron hath help frō none What others haue is Crons Crons his owne And Cron will hold his owne or't shal go hard The diuel will helpe him for a small reward The diuels helpe oh tis a mightie thing If he but say the word Cron is a King Oh then the diuel is greater yet then hee I thought as much the diuel would master bee And reason too saith Cron for what care I So I may liue as God and neuer die Yea golden Cron death will make thee away And each dog Cron must haue a dying day And with this resolution I bequeath thee To God or to the diuel and so I leaue thee Satyre 2. Prodigall Zodon WHo
knowes not Zodon Zodon what is he The true borne child of insatietie If true borne when if borne at all say where Where conscience beg'd in worst time of the yeare His name yong Prodigall son to greedy gaine Let bloud by folly in a contrary vaine For scraping Cron seeing he needs must die Bequeathed all to prodigallitie The will once prou'd and he possest of all Who then so gallant as yong Prodigall Mounted aloft on flattering Fortunes wings Where like an Nightingale secure he sings Floating on Seas of scarce prosperitie In girt with pleasures sweete tranquillitie Sute vpon sute satten too too base Veluet laid on with gold or siluer lace A meane man doth become but yee must ride In cloth of fyned gold and by his side Two footmen at the least with choise of steeds Attired when she rides in gorgeous weeds Zodon must haue his Charrot gilded ore And when he triumphes fowre bare before In pure white Satten to vsher out his way To make him glorious on his progresse day Vaile bonnet he that doth not passing by Admiring on that Sunne inriching skie Two dayes incag'd at least in strongest hold Storme he that list he scornes to be controld What is it lawfull that a mounted begger May vncōtrolled thus beare sway and swagger A base borne issue of a baser syer Bred in a cottage wandring in the myer With nailed shooes and whipstaffe in his hand Who with a hey and ree the beasts command And being seuen years practizde in that trade At seuen yeares end by Tom a iournyes made Vnto the Citie of faire Troynouant Where through extremitie of need and want Hees forc't to trot with fardle at his backe From house to house demaunding if they lacke A poore yong man that's willing to take paine And mickle labour though for little gaine Well some kind Troyan thinking he hath grace Keepes him himselfe or gets some other place The world now god be thanked's wel amended Want that erewhile did want is now befrended And scraping Cron hath got a world of welth Now what of that Cron's dead wher's al his pelf Bequeathed to yong prodigall That's well His God hath left him and he's fled to hell See goulden soules the end of ill got gaine Reade and marke well to do the like refraine This youthful gallant like the prince of pleasure Floting on golden seas of earthly treasure Treasure ill got by ministring of wrong Made a faire show but endured not long Ill got worse spent gotten by deceit Spent on lasciuions wantons which await And hourely expect such prodigallitie Lust breathing leachers giuen to venerie No day expired but Zodon hath his trull He hath his tyt and she likewise her gull Gull he Trull she oh tis a gallant age Men may haue hacknyes of good carriage Prouided that their rayne a golden shower Then come whose will at th'appointed hower Hower me no howers howers breake no square Where gold doth rai●● 〈◊〉 to find thē there Well Zodon hath his pleasure he hath gold Young in his golden age in sin too old Now he wants gold all his treasures done Hees banished the Stewes pittie findes none Rich yesterday in wealth this day as poore To morrow like to beg from doore to doore See youthfull spendthrifts all your brauery Euen in a moment turnd to misery Satyre 3. Insolent Superbia LIst ye profane faire painted images Predestinated by the destenies At your first being to fall eternallie Into Cymerian black obscuritie Ilfauoured Idols Pride anatomie Foule coloured puppets balls of infamie Whome zealous soules do racket too and fro Sometimes aloft ye flye otherwhiles below Banded into the ayres loose continent Where hard vpbearing winds hold parlament For such is the force of downe declining sin Where our short feathered peacocks wallow in That when sweete motions vrge them to aspire They are so bathed ore by sweete desire In the odiferous fountaine of sweete pleasure Wherein delight hath all embalmd her treasure I meane where Sin the mistris of disgrace Hath residence and her abiding place And sin though it be foule yet faire in this In being painted with a show of blis For what more happie creature to the eie Then is Superbia in her brauerie Yet who more foule disrobed of attire Perld with the botch as children burnt with fire That for their outward cloake vpon the skin Worser enormities abound within Looke they to that truth tels them there amis And in this glasse all telling truth it is Whē welcome Spring had clad the hils in green And pretty whistling birds were heard and seen Superbia abrode gan take her walke With other peacocks for to finde her talke Kyron that in a bush lay closely couched Heard all their chat and how it was auouched Sister sayes one and softly packt away In what faire company did you dine to day Mongst gallāt dames then she wipes her lips Placing both hands vpon her whalebone hips Puft vp with a round circling farthingale That done she gins go forward with her tale Sitting at table caru'd of walnut tree All couered with damaskt naperie Garnisht with saults of pure beaten gould Whose siluer plated edge of rarest mould Mou'd admiration in my searching eie To see the goldsmiths ritch artificie The Butlers placing of his manchets white The plated cupbord for our more delight Whose goulden bewty glauncing from on hie Illuminated other chambers nie The slowly pacing of the seruing men Which were appointed to attend vs then Holding in either hand a siluer dish Of costly cates of farfetcht daintie fish Vntill they do approch the table nye Where the appointed caruer carefully Dischargeth them of their full freighted hands Which instantly vpon the table stands The musick sweet which al that while did sound Rauish the hearers and their sence confound This done the master of that sumptuous feast In order gins to place his welcome gest Bewtie first seated in a throne of state Vnmatchable disdaining other mate Shone like the sun wheron mine eies stil gazed Feeding on her perfections that amazed But oh her siluer framed Coronet With low downe dangling spangles all beset Her sumptuous perewig her curious curles Her hie prizde necklace of entrailed perles Her pretious Iewels wondrous to behold Her basest I em framde of the purest gold Oh I could kill my selfe for very spight That my dim stars giue not so cleere a light Hartburning ire new kindled bids dispaire Since Bewtie liues in her and I want faire Oh had I dyde in youth or not bin borne Rather then liue in hate and dye forlorne And dye I will therewith she drew a knife To kill her selfe but Kyron sau'd her life See heere proud puppets hie aspiring euils Scarse any good most of you worse then diuels Excellent in ill ill in aduising well Wel in thats worst worse then the worst in hell Hell is starke blind so blind most women bee Blinde yet not blind whē they should not see Fine Madam Tiptoes in her