Mankinde and his Countries choaker The helhownd whelpe the shoulder-clapping Serient That cares not to vndoe the world for Argent The postknight that will sweare away his soule Though for the same the law his eares doe powle The smoaky black-lungd puft Tobacconist Whose ioy dothin Tobacco sole consist The chollericke Gull that 's tangled with a Drab And in her quarrell will his father stab The baudy dry boand letcherous Baboone Would faine repent hut thinkes it is too soone The ryming Iygmonger would be a Poet But that the Rascall hath not wit to show it The wrinkled Bawd and dambd Vermillian whore That buyes and sells the pox t' increase their store The greasy cauesdropping dore-keeping Pander That with a Puncke to any man will wander The conycatching shifter 〈◊〉 most briefe And when hee s hangd hee le cease to be a thiefe The 〈◊〉 Drunkard will carrowse and quaffe Till like a Hog he tumble in his draffe Besides there 's diuers other helborne sinnes As some great men are wrapt in Misers skinnes For feare of whose dislike 〈◊〉 hold me still And not bumbast them with my Ganders quill Consider with thy selfe good Reader then That heere thou 〈◊〉 amongst those wicked men Who on this earthly stage together keepe Like mag gots in a putrified sheepe Whose damned dealings blacke confusion brings By the iust iudgement of the King of Kings Pastorall Equinocks or a Shepheards complaint I That haue trac'd the mountaines vp and downe And pipte and chanted Songs and pleasant layes The whilst my flokes haue friskt it on the downe Now blinded loue my sportiue pleasures layes I that on greeny grasse could lay me do wne And sleepe as soundly as on beds of downe I then was free from loues all wounding blowe My Ewes and Lambs then merrily could folde I carde not then which way the winde did blowe Nor had I cause with griefe my armes to folde I feard not Winters frost nor Summers sonne And then was I a happy mothers sonne I then could haunt the Market and the Faire And in a frolicke humor leape and spring Till she whose beauty did surpasse all faire Did with her frosty 〈◊〉 nip my Spring Then I alas alas vnhappy I Was made a captiue to her scornefull eie VVhen loue 's fell shaft within my breast did light Then did my Cock-horse pleasures all a light Loues fiery 〈◊〉 ecclipsed all my light And she vnkinde weyde all my woes to light O then my merry dayes away did hie VVhen I so lowe did dote on one so hie Her beauty which did make Loues Queene a Crowe VVhofe white did shame the Lilly red the Rose VVhen Phoebus messenger the Cocke did crowe Each morne when from hia Antipods he rose Despight of gates and barres and bolts and lockes Heed kisse her face and guild her golden lockes VVhich makes my rest like those that restles be Like one that 's hard pursude and cannot flye Or like the busie buzzing humming Bee Or like the fruitles nought respected Flye That cuts the subtill ayre so swift and fast Till in the Spiders web hee 's tangled fast As blustring Boreas rends the losty Pyne So her vnkindenes rends and reaues my heart I weepe I waile I sigh I grone I pine I in ward bleed as doth the wounded Hart. She that alone should onely wish me well Hath drownd my ioyes in sorrowes ioyles well The 〈◊〉 Tyger and the sauage Beare All Beasts and Birds of prey that haunt the wood In my laments doe seeme some part to beare But onely She whose feature makes me wood As barbing Autumne robs the trees of leaues Her 〈◊〉 scorne me voyd of comfort leaues No Castle Fort no Rampier or strong Hold But Loue will enter without Law or Leaue For where affections force hath taken hold There lawles loue will such impression 〈◊〉 That Gods nor men nor fier earth water winde 〈◊〉 Loues straight lawes can neither turne nor wind Then since 〈◊〉 haples haps falls out so hard Since all the fates on me their anger powre Since my laments and moanes cannot be heard And she on me shewes her commaunding power What then remaines but I dissolue in teares Since her disdaines my heart in pieces teares Dye then sad heart in sorrowes prison pend Dye face that 's 〈◊〉 with a deadly dye 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that in her praise hath Poems pend 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and Hand haples and helples dye 〈◊〉 Serieant Death that rests and tak'st no bale 〈◊〉 onely thou must ease my bitter bale This said he sighd and fell into a sownd That 〈◊〉 the Hills and Groues and neigbouring Plaines The Ecchoes of his groanings seemd to sound With repercussion of his dying plaines And where in life he scorned counsell graue Now in his death he rests him in his graue Epitaph HEere lies ingrau'd whose life fell death did sacke Who to his graue was brought vpon a Beere For whome let all men euer mourne in Sacke Or else remember him in Ale or 〈◊〉 He who in life Loues blinded God did lead Now in his death lies heere as cold as Lead Sonnet In trust lies treason THe fowlest friends assumes the fairest formes The fairest Fields doth feed the fowlest Toad The Sea at calm'st most 〈◊〉 is to stormes In choysest fruit the canker makes aboad So in the shape of all belieuing trust Lyes toad inuenomd treason cooched close Till like a storme his trothles thoughts out burst Who canker-like had laine in trusts repose For as the fire within the flint confinde In deepest Ocean still vnquencht remaines Euen so the false though truest seeming minde Despight of truth the treason still retaines Yet maugre treason trust deserueth trust And trust suruiues when treason dies accurst Death with the foure Elements TWo Infant-twinnes a Sister and a Brother When out of dores was gone their carefull Sire And left his babes in keeping with their mother Who merrily sate singing by the fire Who hauing fild a 〈◊〉 with water warme She bathd hen girle O ruthles tale to tell The whilst she thought the other safe from harme Vnluckily into the fire he 〈◊〉 VVhich she 〈◊〉 lets her daughter drowne And rashly ran to saue her burning sonne Which finding dead she hastily casts downe And all agast doth to the water runne Where seeing tother was depriud of breath She gainst the earth falls downe and dasnt her braines Her Husband comes and sees this worke of death And desperate hangs himselfe to ease his paines Thus death with all the elements conspire To reaue mans life Earth Water Aire and Fire Epilogue GOod Reader if my harshe vnlearned rimes Where with my Muse hath whipt these heedles times Hath pleasd thy pallat with their true endeauor She then will thinke her selfe most fortunate And shall heere after be importunate Her selfe in better labors to perseuer I speake not to those ignorant Iacke = 〈◊〉 That with their Canker-biting enuious iawes Will seeme to staine my Muses innocence But in all humblenes I yeeld to those
THE SCVLLER Rowing from TIBER to THAMES with his Boate laden with a hotch-potch or Gallimawfry of Sonnets Satyres and Epigrams With an addition of Pastorall Equiuocques or the complaint of a Shepheard By IOHN TAYLOR Sum primus homo Vis ire mecum Remis Est mihi proxima ◠imbe Read and then iudge Printed at London by E. A. are to be solde at the Pide-bull neere St. Austins gate 1612. TO THE RIGHT WORshipfull and worthy fauourer of learning my singular good Maister Sir WILLIAM WAAD Knight Liefetenant of his M ties Tower of London your poore seruant Iohn Taylor consecrates this his first Inuentions wishing You and Yours all happines temporall and eternall S Such is the course of this inconstant life I In which we mortall creatures draw our breath R Reason is ruld by Rage and Peace by Strife W Wit is a slaue to Will and Life to Death I I in these fickle fleeting fading times L Liue and enioy the bounty of your fauors L Let me I pray' and my vnworthy rimes I Intreat your kinde protection of my labors A As in a storme the Sheepe to shelters runne M My Muse vnto your Patronage doth flie W Whereas she hopes all Enuies stormes to shunne A And liue despight of scandals callumnie A All my endeauours then shall me perswade D Dreadles that I through greater streames will wade Your humble seruant most obesequious IOHN TAYLOR To the right worshipfull and my euer respected Mr. IOHN MORAY Esquire OF all the wonders this vile world includes I muse how 〈◊〉 such high fauors gaine How adulation cunningly deludes Both high and lowe from Scepter to the Swayne But yet if thou by flattry couldst obtaine More then the most that is possest by men Thou canst not tune thy tongue to falshoods straine Yet with the best canst vse both tongue and pen. Thy sacred learning can both scan and ken The hidden things of Nature and of Art T is thou hast raisd me from obliuions den And made my Muse from obscure sleepe to start Vnto thy wisdomes censure I commit This first borne issue of my worthles wit I T. To my deere respected friend Mr. Beniamin Iohnson THou canst not dye for though the stroake of death Depriues the world of thy worst earthly part Yet when thy corps hath banished thy breath Thy liuing Muse shall still declare thy Art The fatall Sisters and the blessed Graces Were all thy friends at thy natiuity And in thy minde the Muses tooke their places Adoring thee with rare capacitie And all the Worthies of this worthy land Admires thy wondrous all admired worth Then how should I that cannot vnderstand Thy worth thy worthy worthinesse set forth Yet beare the boldnesse of the honest Sculler Whose worthlesse praise can fill thy praise no fuller I. T. To my louing friend IOHN TAYLOR COuld my vnpractisd Pen aduance thy name Thou shouldst be seated on the wings of Fame For from thy toylesome Oare I wonder I How thy inuention flowes so iocundly Not hauing dreamd on faire Pernassus Hill With fruitfull numbers to inrich thy Quill Nor hauing washt in that Pegassion Fount Which lends the wits such nimblenes to mount VVith tickling rapture on poetique straines On Thames the Muses floate that fills thy braines Thy happy wit producde thy happy rimes VVhich shall commend thee vnto after times And worthily enrole thy name mongst those VVhose Temples are begirt with Lawrell bowes For sooth to say a worke I saw not yet Lesse helpt with learning and more grac'd with wit Then spight of Enuy and Detractions scorne Though Art thou wantst thou art a Poet borne And as a friend for names sake I le say thus Nec scombros metuentia Carmina nec Thus. Henry Taylor To the one and onely water-Poet and my friend Iohn Taylor FResh water Soldiers saile in shallow streames And mile-end Captaines venture not their liues A braine distempred brings forth idle dreames And guilded Sheathes haue sildome golden Kniues And painted faces none but fooles bewitch Thy Muse is plaine but witty faire and rich When thou didst first to Agganippe floate Without thy knowledge as I surely thinke The Nayades did swim about thy boate And brought thee brauely to the Muses brinke 〈◊〉 Grace and Nature filling vp thy Fountaine Thy muse came flowing from Pernassus Mountaine So long may flowe as is to thee most fit The boundles Ocean of a Poets wit I P. In laudem Authoris VVIt Reason Grace Religion Nature Zeale Wrought all together in thy working braine And to thy worke did set this certaine 〈◊〉 Pure is the cullor that will take no staine What need I praise the worke it selfe doth praise In words in worth in forme and matter to A world of wits are working many waies But few haue done that thou dost truly doe Was neuer Taylor shapt so fit a Coate Vnto the corps of any earthly creature As thou 〈◊〉 made for that foule Romish Goate In true discription of his deuillish nature Besides such matter of iudicious wit With queint 〈◊〉 so fitting euery fancy As well may proue who scornes and spights atit Shall either shew their folly or their franzie Then let the Popes Bulls roare bell booke and candle In all the Deuills circuit sound thy curse Whilst thou with truth dost euery try all handle God blesse thy worke and thou art nere the worse And while Hells friends their 〈◊〉 foe doe proue thee The Saints on earth and God in heauen will loue thee Thy louing friend Nicholas Bretton VVHen Tybers siluer waues their Chanell leaue And louely Thames hir wonted course for sake Then foule obliuion shall thy name bereaue Drenching thy glory in her hell-bred lake But till that time this scourge of Popery Shall Crowne thy fame with immortallity Thy friend assured Maximilian Waad To my louing friend Iohn Taylor FErris gaue cause of vulgar wonderment When vnto Bristow in a Boate he went Another with his Sculler ventered more That Row'd to Flushing from our English 〈◊〉 Another did deuise a woodden Whale Which vnto Callice did from Douer saile Another with his Oares and slender Wherry From London vnto Antwerpe o're did ferry Another maugre fickle fortunes teeth Rowed hence to Scotland and ariu'd at Leeth But thou hast made all these but triuiall things That from the Tower thy watry Sculler brings To Hellicon most sacred in account And so arriued at Pernassus Mount And backe returndladen with Poets wit With all the muses hands to witnesse it Who on their Sculler doth this praise bestowe Not such another on the Thames doth rowe Thy louing friend SAMVEL ROWLANDS To my friend both by water and land IOHN TAYLOR OFt hast thou traueld for me at thy Oare But neuer in this kind did'st toyle before To turne a Poet in this peeuish tyme Is held as rare as I should write in rime For one of thy profession yet thy Art Surpasseth mine this serues to paint that part I meane thy Poetry which in thee lurkes And
not honest friend quoth she Their birth was both at once I dare be sworne But yet betweene them both a man was borne Epigram 7. THe way to make a Welch-man thirst for blisse And say his prayers daily on his knees Is to perswade him that most certaine t is The Moone is made of nothing but greene Cheese And hee le desire of God no greater boone But place in heauen to feede vpon the Moone Epigram 8. A Gallant Lasse from out her window saw A gentleman whose nose in length exceeded Hir boundles will not lymited by law Imagin'd he had what she greatly needed To speake with him she kindly doth entreat Desiring him to cleare her darke suppose Supposing euery thing was made compleate And corespondent equall to his nose But finding short where she exspected long She sigh'd and said O nose thou didst me wrong Epigram 9. YOung Sr. Iohn Puck foyst and his new made madam Forgetts they were the off-spring of old Adam I 'm sure t is not for wit nor man-like fight His worthles worship late was dubd a knight Some are made great for wealth and some for wit And some for vallour doe attaine to it And some for neither vallour witt nor wealth But stolne opinion purchase it by stealth Epigrom 10. ONe tolde me flattry was exilde the state And pride and lust at Court were out of date How vertue did from thence all vice pursue T is newes quoth I too good for to be true Epigrum 12. HE that doth beate his braines and tire his witt In hope thereby to please the multitude As soone may ride a horse without a bitt Aboue the Moone or sunnes high Altitude Then neither flattery nor the hope of pelfe Hath made me write but for to please my selfe Epigram 12. ARustick swaine was cleauing of a block And hum he Cryes at euery pondrous knock His wife saies husband wherfore hum you so Quoth he it makes the wedge in further goe When day was don and drowsie night was come Being both in bed at play she bids him hum Good wife quoth he entreat me hum no more For when I hum I cleaue but now I bore Epigram 13 VVHen Caualero Hot-shott goes with Oares Zoun's Rowe ye Rogs ye lazy knaues make hast A noyse of Fidlers and a brace of whores At Lambeth stayes for me to breake their fast He that 's so hott for 's wench ere he come nie her Being at her once I doubt hee le be a fier Epigram 14. IT was my chaunce once in my furious moode To call my neighbours wife an arrant who re But she most stifly on her credit stood Swearing that sory I should be therefo re Her husband vnderstanding of the case Protested he would sue me for a slander When straight I prou'd it to his forked face He was a knaue a cuckold and a Pander Oho quoth he good neighbor say no mo I know my wife lets out her buggle bo Epigram 15. THe Law hangs Theeues for their vnlawfull stealing The Law carts Bawds for keeping of the dore The Law doth punish Rogues for roguish dealing The Law whips both the Pander and the whore But yet I muse from whence this Law is growne Whores must not steale nor yet must vse their owne Epigram 16. OLd Fabian by extortion and by stealth Hath got a huge masse of ill gotten wealth For which he giues God daily thankes and praise When t was the Deuill that did his fortunes raise Then since the getting of thy goods were euill Th' ast reason to be thankfull to the deuill Who very largely hath increast thy muck And sent them Miser Midaes golden luck Then thanke not God for he hath helpt thee least But thanke the Deuill that hath thy pelfe increast Epigram 17. VVHat matter i st how men their dayes do spend So good report doe on their deaths attend Though in thy former life thou nere didst good But mad'st Religion for thy faults a hood And all blacke sinnes were harbourd in thy breast And tooke thy Conscience for their natiue nest Yet at thy buriall for a noble price Shalt haue a Sermon made shall hide thy vice A threed-bare Parson shall thy prayse out-powre And in the expiration of an howre Will make the world thy honesty applaud And to thy passed life become a Baud. Our Christian brother heere lyes dead quoth he Who was the patterne of true Charity No Drunkard Whoremonger nor no vile swearer No greedy Vsurer nor no Rent-rearer O deare beloued his example take And thus an end at this time doe I make Thus Mr. Parson nobly spends his breath To make a Villaine honest after death And for one noble freely he affoords Much more then twenty shillings-worth of words Epigram 18. LOrd who would take him for a pippin squire That 's so bedawb'd with lace and rich attire Can the dambd windefalls of base bawdery Maintaine the slaue in this imbrodery No maruaile Vertue 's at so lowe a price When men knowes better how to thriue by Vice Epigram 19. ALl Bradoes oathes are new-found eloquence As though they sprung from learned sapience He sweares by swift-pac'd Titans fiery Car By Marses Launce the fearefull God of warre By Cupids Bowe Mercuries charming Rod By Baccus Diety that drunken God By grimfacde Pluto and Auernus Caues By Eolus blasts and Nptunes raging waues By his sweet Mistris bright translucent eies All other Oathes his Humour doth despise Epigram 20. Signeor Serano to and fro doth range And at high noone he visits the Exchange With stately gate the peopled Burse he stalkes Prying for some acquaintance in those walkes Which if he spie note but his strange salute Marke how hee le spread to shew his broaking sute When he perhaps that owde this cast apparell Not a fortnight since at Tyburne fought a quarell Epigram 21. OLd Grubsons Sonne a stripling of good age T will make one laugh to see him and his Page Like to a garded Vrchin walkes the streetes Looking for reuerence of each one he meetes Eagles must honour Owles and Lyons Apes And wise men worship fooles for farre fetcht shapes Epigram 22. GReat Captaine Sharke doth wonderfully muse How he shall spend the day that next ensues There 's no Play to be plaid but he hath seene At all the Theaters he oft hath beene And seene the rise of Clownes and fall of Kings Which to his humor no contentment brings And for he scornes to see a Play past twice Hee le spend the time with his sweet Cockatrice Epigram 23. A Compleat Gallant that hath gone as farre That with his hands from Skies hath pluckt a Starre And saw bright Phoebus when he did take Coach And Luna when her Throane she did approach And talkt with Iupiter and Mercury With Vulcan and the Queene of Letchery And saw the net the stumpfoot Blackesmith made Wherein fell Mars and Venus was betraid With thousand other sights he saw in Skies Who dares affirme it that this gallant lyes I