brainâ—s knowing mâ—ch wrong no right Gote-bearded sweete-fac'd like a Catamite Toung'de Lawyer-like all terme without vacation A Baboonâ—s loynâ—s desiring occupation Crumpe-Cammell-shoulder'd neckt as straight as â—ynx One eye like to a Moll 's t'other like Lynx A Lyons stomack not to fight but feede A Hare in heart and yet a Snaile in speede This is the man whom we Pandorsus call Whose armes or Rebus thus we blasen shall Vpon a statâ—ly wall Saint George doth ride Wanting a horse in pompe and armed pride Beneath there is a Den in that the Dragon This tells his name whose worthy parts we brag on It is his owne deuice let all men know So is the rest which we in order show His Mothers Husband who reputed was His Father being rich and well to passe A wealthy Merchant and an Alderman On forraigne shores did trauâ—ll now and than The whilst a Gallant Souldier new come forth From warre bâ—got this man of mickle worth This gallant Souldier then from â—Belgia brought A wondrous Mandrake with much perill bought Sprung though some thinâ—e it fabulous from seed The gallowâ—s drop for so this roote doth breed Which whilst his mother did in plâ—asure eye Our Moâ—nsurs shape she did concâ—iue thereby Much like that Mandrake writâ—en turning round As from the gallowâ—s he had dropt to ground And lâ—t no douâ—tfull Reader much admire A Myrmidon should be Pandorsus Syre For as there 's none with vs get brauer men Then Lawyers or the tender Citizen So none more cowards gâ—t then those which are Our brauest Spirits most renownde in warre The cause I know not or I list not tell But so it often falles and heere so fell None bolder then Pandorsus Syre then he None fearefuller and yet he needs would be A Souldier where the Muster-booke he fild But fought with none nor ne're saw any kild Artemon was more hardy though afraid Of his owne shadow Wagers haue beene laid That let an enemie fart he would out-run An Irishman for feare t 'had been a gun Where learned Spencer maketh harna'st Feare Afraid the clashing of his armes to heare That apprehension he from hence did gaine Our Monsieur did what Spencer did but faine But stay I haue forgot to let you know His education and to shew you how Being nusled vp in Letters he in sport His time wore out at Schoole and Innes of Court Yet so as once a Gipsie who did looke Vpon his Palme said he should liue by 's booke Which fortune some conceiue hath doubtfull scope As if his booke should saue him from the rope But since he proues it meant another thing That teaching Tongues he should liue like a King And so he now doth liuing as he lust And by his owne will measuring what is iust For being set to Schoole when he was young He of all knowledge learn'd both taile and tongue Th' Italian Latin Spanish and the French He grew as cunning in as at a Wench A Dictionary of all words of Art And Lullies old-ends he hath got by heart Th' apparrell of all knowledge he doth weare And 'bout him Bias-like his wealth doth beare And now growne ripe he doth religion choose That 's most in fashion as our great ones vse But otherwise for truth hee 'le neuer burne Th' aduantage of his wry-necke helps him turne He knowes the way and wills the world ne're doubt That comming raw in hee 'le go rosted out In youth he tooke to Wife a louely Dame Not hight the chast Penelope by name But worthy such an attribute for shee Her wandring loose Vlisses did not see In twenty yeeres and yet t' is thought her bed Shee kept vnstain'd and vn-ad-horn'd his head But what a blessing was he thought a curse His wife had better beene had shee been worse Her goodnesse made him hate her she had dide But that a dozen must be kil'd beside He knew not then as I haue heard him say Th' Italian tricke but the plaine English way Of simple Country poysoning now he knowes To do t by inches Court perfection growes Lopus and Squire are not so skil'd as hee And scarce Romes Conclaue in that mysterie He can a Nullitie worke diuorce the life Twixt soule and body sooner then some wife And if his ricke be knowne men ne're will seeke A doubtfull way by law but do the like His wife thus scap'd a scouring so did he When being merry once in company And passing Smith-field then vnpau'd too late With rich Canary hauing linde his pate The owle-eyde Sharkers spi'd him how he felt To finde a post his meaning soone they smelt And then the sturdiest knaue with sodain'd rush Our wauering Monsieur on his knees did push The whil'st another kindly to him spoke Help't him out of the durt and chang'd his cloke This cloke he wore next day and passing by A Brokers shop the prentice lowde gan cry Sirs stop the theefe the cloake this fellow weares Is mine with that they swarm'd about his eares Conuayde him to a Iustice where one swore He had been branded stagmaticke before Another said he was the man that hung Three dayes beyond Seas as the ballad sang The cause why he his necke awry did hold Was for he hang'd long and was ta'ne downe cold But to the Iustice being throughly knowne For carrying letters where 't must not be showne And for his skill each moderne language speaking And wondrous Art to silence doores from squeaking With losse of his good cloke he slipt the hooke And thus he once was saued by his booke Thus farre I stretch my lines thus farre he liues And more I 'le write when he direction giues But if I die these lines shall be the glasse His worth to shew and how I thankfull was To the ouer-wise ouer-wilfull ouer-curious or ouer-captious Readers I Faine would tell some Tales but I 'de be loth To haue men be so wise to thinke them troth This isâ— wondrous witty age that sees Beyond the truth of things forty degrees Each Riddle now hath Poyson in 't each Rime On the blancke Almanak points at guilty time Aesope must mak no Lyons roare nor Eagles Shrike loude nor wolues râ—â—in nor swift Beagles Yelpe with their slauering lips after the Foxe Nor must he meddle with the Asse or Oxe For feare some querke â—e found to proue he menâ— Vnder those shapes a priuate spleene to vent Against wise vigilant Statists who like Ianus Looke both waies squint and both waies guard and saâ—e vâ— Or that he closely would great Lawyers yerke Who build their neasts with ruines of the kirke Or that he toucht some Church-man who to rise One Steeples height would tell Canonicall lies The Ghost of Virgils Gnat would noâ— sting soâ— That great men durst not in the City go For feare of petty-Chapmen with a Serieant And a sly Yeoman noted in the Margâ—ant If Spencer now were liuing to report His Mother Hubberts tale there would be sport To see him in a blanket tost and
Is your Master waking gentle swaines If not aâ—ere him tell him all the Plaines Are vp in armes against our common foe The false Hyena that beguil'd vs so He cannot scape their hands for they haue found The Caue he keeps in closely vnder ground Bid him awake and rise and come away For all the Shepheards for his comming stay This tale beleeu'd the Asse and Musk-cat hye To make their Master to make hast to dye He râ—seth rashly opes the doore goes out And is deâ—our'd ere he can looke about Nor can the watch-men scape but both are slaine Though one be sweet the other true and plaine Epimythium Not simple truth alone can make vs fit To beare great place in State without great wit For when the Serpent comes to circumuent vs We must be Serpents too or els repent vs. HIPPOPOTAMVS DEDICATED To the magnificent KNIGHT Sr. HVGH SMITH and his worthy LADY YOur Auon's quiet no such Monsters feede 'Bout sandy Seuerne as in Nilus breede â—t Nilus-like your bountie oâ—erflowes â—â—ence good report and â—ame and honour growes THe Sea-horse and the famous Crocodile Both challeng'd to be Kings of fruitfull Nile â—nd sundry fields they fought where many dyed â—f either â—action still the cause vntried â—et often had they single hand to hand â—ncountred in the flood and on the land â—nd parted still with equall harme away â—or both the blowes bore thence but not the day Yet each inuincible himselfe did call And so they were but to themselues to all But when they cop'd successe did thus conclude Courage remayn'd strength only was subdu'd And so for want of strength they often sundred Though at their wondrous strength al other wondreâ— Thus oâ—t they met and oâ—t assay'd in vaine Who should th' Emperiall crowne of Nilus gaine Till both grew weary of these warres at length And gan lay by the vse of armes and strength And truce proclaim'd a while on either part A fained truce no friendship from the heart For vnder-hand by stratagems and friends And secret plots each sought their seuerall ends But much more noble was the Crocodile And wiser much though not so full of guile As Hippopotamus so th' other hight Who car'd not what he did or wrong or right By falshood bribes or treason so he could The foulest fact to his aduantage mould And thus he call'd Chameleon on a day With Polypus and vnto them gan say You two my bosome-friâ—nds my Minions are My pâ—iuie Counsellers in peace and warre And I haue found you plyant to my will Faithfull to me but false to others still And now I craue your vtmost Art and reason In conquering of the Crocodile by treason Which thus I purpose Both of you are made By nature apt to colour and to shade With fit resemblance all the obiects nye On which you shall reflect a steady eye â—ou can seeme otherwise then what you be â—nd couer hate with close hypocrisie â—ou can take any shape any disguise â—nd soone beguile the most inquisitiue eyes â—eare any Liuery all companies fit â—nd to each humour change your ready wit â—his you haue done before and oft made plaine â—eightie intelligence and can so againe â—ut each his proper element retayning â—hameleon in the ayre and earth remaining â—ou Polypus at sea To sea then hye â—nd with rich promises Torpedo buy â—o our close seruice he in Counsell is â—o our great â—oe a greater friend of his â—But wealth is our best friend and that corrupts â—The purest minde and friendship interrupts â—ith gifts and promises peruert him so â—hat he may call vs friend count him a foe â—ill him he would when fitting time doth come â—ith his slowe touch secure bewitch benumme â—ur aduersary and his sense astonish â—hat it may seeme a crime him to admonish â—f our apparant practises preparing â—hilst he attends his sports no danger fearing â—hen to the Water-rat Ichneumon goâ— â—nd you to Cuschillâ—â— and will them too â—hen next they picke his teeth and scratch his head For they are neere him still at euery stead â—nd highly fauor'd chiefly Cuschiâ—â—us â—hough both in fee and pension be withvs â—hat they would ioyne their wits and force together â—o murther him and for reward come hither So when your plots he closely thus conuey'd And all your traines and tew in order laid Then mixe your selues in either element With the profuse the needy discontent The desperate the bloody and the bold Whom nought but feare do from rebellion hold Of such you shall finde many in this State For hee 's remisse and doth all businesse hate Whereby he gets contempt and opens wide A ready way of entrance vnespide To our high aimes Full many you shall finde Of our close faction fitting to our minde Those that are such encourage others frame Aâ—d what you will speake largely in our name Promise and sweare and lye to make things fit That our designes may prosper by our wit â—way and for the rest leaue that to mâ— The spies instructed thus fit agents be And post with speede and with a speed too good Dispatch all Scenes fit for the Act of blood And now the wise learn'd valiant Crocodile A hunting hies vnto the bankâ—s of Nile Where hauing sported long and fully fed The slow Torpedo strokes him on tbe head Whispâ—rs within his eare and charmes him so That in the Sun-shine he to rest must go But as he goes drowsie and reeling thus Meets him the Indian Rat and Cuâ—chillus And lowting low with musicke him presents And antique sheâ—es and masâ—ing meriments Striuing to hide their treason with such Art That their true care almost betraid their heart â—his wise Alcedo one that many a dish â—ad for his King prepar'd of dantiest fish â—id soone suspect and with shrill voice gan crie â—ir King beware for enemies are nie â—eware of him that 's busie with your eare â—nd tells you lies that truth you may not heare â—eware of him that 's sâ—ratching of your head â—eware of him that 's making of your bed â—eware of â—im that doth extoll you so â—nd like a God adores you as you go â—eware of him that doth so humbly fall On his false â—nee good King beware of all With that the Crocodile gan looke about Being halfe asleep from a sweet dreame wakâ—d ouâ— â—nd would haue heard more but the charmers kept The bird away by force and so he slept â—e slept and Cuschillus did sing the while And pickt his â—eeth and vsed many a wile To ope his ouer-chap for onely he â—oth moue his ouer-chap the nether we At last he tickled him and forc't him so â—o yawne and gape then Cuschillus doth go â—nto his belly and the Indian Rat â—eapes quicâ—ly after where they first search what â—lose counsels secret purposes did fill His darker bosome were they good or ill But were they good or ill it matters not For they pursue and prosecute their plot They gin to gnaw
with him so 't was agreed To beare him company Well mote they speed The Man a saddle sets vpon his backe A halâ—er on his head which wit doth lacke What meane you master quoth the simple Asse These will but make me weary as I passe Foole quoth the Man thinke you I le haue my Pageâ— Not suited to the fashions of this age I should be sham'd to sâ—e you neere me stand Without a cloake and bout your neck a band Proud was the silly Asse to heare he stood So high in fauour and doth onward skud With willing pace not like a sleepy snaile But tossing of his eares winching his taile Long trauailde they till to a brook they came Wherein a many siluer fishes swam A bridge was nâ—â—re but Man withheld his eye And would not see the bridge some reason why The Asse went through the water quoth he then All beasts are far more happier than all Men. You are by nature safely cloth'd and armde Gainst cold heat drought and wet we easly harmde With any small annoyance You are free And gainst all these extreames must patient be The Asse being prais'd vpon no ground stood still But must turne backe againe to shew his skill To boast his valour let his Master know All his good parts and sâ—ruices arow Now sir quoth he you on my backe I 'le beare Safe o're this waterâ— Gâ—t vp nothing fearâ— The Man leapt lightly vp Dissimulation Doth neither stirrup nâ—â—d nor great perswasion The Asse doth quickly passe the Riâ—er Then He stayes and prayes him light No sâ—ith the Man Proceed vpon your iourney you can beare I dare not light to fall I stand in fearâ— I 'le kneele then quoth the Asse and down he kneels The Man straight raisde him with his whip and heels O Master quoth the Assâ—â— you promisde meat Youâ— couâ—nant giues no liberty to bâ—at â—oole quoth the Man the word expresly meant Wages for worke impliâ—s a punishmâ—nt For sluggishnesse and sloth make haste away Our businâ—sse and the time permits no stay So on they goe till the Asse now almost tyred Askt pitty of the Man and ease desired Thâ—t the would daigne a little while to light The Man denide it and then laught out-right And doubled blowes with whip with heele staffe O tyrant quoth the Asse dost fight and laugh Are these th' effects of promises and words Is this the peace your law bond faith affords Keep you your couenants thus O man thinke how You make vs traytors when you breake your vow Why quoth the Man my couenants are vnbroke I haue performde whatsere I wrote or spoke I giue you meat my meaning likevvise vvas To giue you blovves if that you plaide the Asse I was to haue your exâ—remâ—nts and sweat I cannot haue those but by vvorke and heat Therefore I ride you You were to attend In all my iourneyes on me like a friend And vvhat is liker to a friend I pray Then a mans drudge that toyles both night day That carries him through thicke and thin vvith paine And a sure stud for all turnes doth remaineâ— O quoth the Assâ— the vvorld vvas neuer good Since other on mentall reseruation stood I only vvas to beare you company True quoth the Man to beare that 's carry me O damn'd equiuocation vvho at first quoth the poore Asse this double Doctrine nurst No Merchant Tradesman Lavvyer nor Diuine Though much froÌ„ truth they warp froÌ„ grace decline Could be the aâ—thors of this ample euill But truthes professed foe that iâ—gling deuill That Diuell who taught it first and practiz'd too In paridise vnto our generall woe That Diuell which doth renue in euery age By this alone his kingdome and image For without this his kingdome would decay And without this his image weare away This onely murthers truth opposeth faith Deceiuing whether true or false it saith If true we dare not trust it fearing ill If false like truth it looks and tempts vs will Quoth Man thou preachest well and well mightst passe Couldst thou speake Latin too to say a Masse Thy folly was in fault rashly to draw Thy articles without aduice at law There wanted stops pricks letters here and there And by your leaue some words the truth to cleere Nay quoth the Asse had euery word stop letter Been left vnwritten my estate were better This is the plague when power expoundeth lawes Not as the truth requires but as the cause When euery letter may an error breed To helpe the rich and begger such as need When tyrants do capitulate and treat Not to conclude but to deceiue and cheat When your false minds are candi'de ore with words As your gay sheathes conceale your bloody swords Now quoth the Man I thinke that Balaams Asse Or golden Apuly's thy Tutor was Thou art so eloquent so learned witty As if thou hadst been taught in Athens Citty In Athens quoth the Asse now I espie You speake no truth but when yee thinke to lie I was a Cockny once of noble blood Traind vp in Athens Court and in the flood of pleasure bathde my youth but not in Art Which causde this transformation teares and smart Yet went our Master and was well allowdeâ— With many of my kin in that thicke crowde When Philip did so learnedly dispute And made Demost â—enes with wonder mute I was in fauour then and then did passe For braue and wise though now I be an Asse For no Man ought to iudge by forme or face By fauour or imployment or by place Which are the wise and foolish Dunces oft â—Passe by great doctors Baboones leap aloft And they may proue like me liâ—e to be switcht If they my fortune meet to be bewitcht How I bewitched was you now shall heare There is no true accomplisht Caualere That hath not trauailde And the'rs few of these Which scape bewitching passing ouer Seas When I first trauail'd my braue Spirit did moue T' attempt great Ladies and to purchace loue I purcha'st loue so long till all I had Was purcha'st from me and my selfe full glad To leaue both Court and Citie and to try A better Country fortune to espie With much much toyle and many courtly shifts At length I did arriue mongst craggy clifts And barraine rocks t' a smoaky house which stood Alone besides a fearefull desart wood There with a wither'd witch I long time staid A Bel-dame that had been Medeâ—es maid She turn'd me to an Asse that very day Th' Odcombian wit did odly scape away He may his good shooes praise pray for his heeles By those he scap't And yet I feare he feeles His braine was turning if he euer passe That way againe he will turne perfect Asse And so will many more as well as I Except they stop their eares as they passe by No quoth the Man this is a pretty fable Fitting the end so neere vnto the stable I le now alight we two are perfect friends My iourney and thy
yet at each corner stand Who still loue truth in spite of thy command Their heads look south because the wind blows there Thy taile stands south thy head the winde doth feareâ— Ill might he fare that in Alcedos place Set thee who springest from a bloudy racâ— His error and thy pedigree behold As it in ancient story is inrould A trayt'rous Slaue his Master hauing slaine Did sole Commander of the world remaine But whilst he slept a chickin of that Cocke Which Cephas check't when he denyde the rocke And forc't him to repent to sigh and weep Did with his voyce the murtherer wake from sleep And would not suffer him to rest in sin But he would rouse his conscience still withinâ— This Murtherer a Cocke of kinde did get And him to kill this kinder Cocke did set Who soone perform'd the taske he tooke in hand For Chauntecleer would â—uffer not withstand He watchfull was and tended his vocation To stirre vp others to their occupation He lou'd the pearle more then the barley corne To crow and not to quarrell he was borne So he was slamâ— and slaine by one of those From whence thy proud succession strangely rose Who hight Alectrion and while-ere had bin The Pandor vnto Mars and Venus sin And then being Captaine of great Mars his guard Stood Sentinel and kept both watch and ward For feare that Phoebus all discouering eye Should them vnwares at their stolne pleasure spie But ouert'ane with sleep he did not wake Till Vulcans net did both the lechers take For which the angry God inragâ—d and mad His sleeping souldier all in feathers clad His sword turn'd spurrâ—s himselfe a Cocke of kinde His armes and body changde but not his minde That 's bloody still and too far prone to sight Without respect of persons cause or right Elsâ— would he ne're haue been so mad to kill A harmeles Cocke who had no thought of ill But him he falsely slew and hauing â—â—aine Did for this murther of a murtherer gaine Too great preferment to be set vp heere In t iumph t'ouersee all farre and neere To be ador'de with vniuersall praise And triple crownd with Oliue Oake and Bayes Him thou succeed'st both in thy minde and place An armed Champion of that yron race A Souldier none of his whose badge thou bear'st But rather one of his whose crowne thou wear'st Thy narrow heeles are sharpe thy tongue is short To prey and not to prayer fit t'exhort Thou wilt not crow to roâ—se the world from sleep But with thy silent charmes it drunken keepe When thou most seruant-like thy head dost beare Downe to the ground then Cockes their crownes maâ— feare Thou seek'st a fained quarrell then to pick And wilt with both wings mount with both heeles strickâ— At euery feather come stab either spur Vp to the hilts and furiously bestur Thy ready parts t' attaine thy bloody end And all the world to thy owne scope to bend Thou trumpet'st warres and curses ouer all And ouer-câ—owes but wilt not crow to call Thy selfe and others of thy ranke and place From looking on the Earth to view the fâ—ce Of the all-searching Sunne and by his light To measure truly what is wrong and right The Cock is kil'd that Peter caus de to weepe Thâ— Petrean Pastor now may safely sleep â—leepe though he hath deni'd his master too â—or none tâ—admonish him hath ought to doo Crauen awake behold how I deride â—â—y mutabilitie thy sloth thy pride â—â—ou stand'st where he stood who claim'd all the world â—â—d shalt with him from that steep heighâ— be hurld â—bout thy head each prating bird that perks â—aâ—e take the name and place of learned Clerks And vnâ—o royall Eagles offer lawes â—Vhen each eye sees they are but iangling dawes And though all Lyons in the desart feare And crouch when they thy crowing voice do heareâ— Our Lyon scornes thee when he heares thee crow And with his â—oaring voice the world doth show How poore thou art how cowardly how weake Who shak'st treÌ„blest when thou hear'st him speak And yet how proud art thou t' vsurpe a place Of iudgement ouer me in this darke case And to prefer the Clock for want of wit VVhen I should be the iudge of thee and it The Sexton comes hee 'le mend all this anone VVith that the angry Clocke in rage strooke one The Sexton came indeed and one did tell Look't on the Diall saw all was not well For that said twelue the Clock said one and past He tooke the weights off which causâ—d too much hast Suruaide the wheeles for there the fault might be And found some cog supply the place of three Some wheâ—les were taken off and borne to Court To trundle vp and downe and there make sport And some with dust and rust were duld and foild And some stood vselesse so the Clocke was spoild Which to reforme he mends the wheels forthwitâ— Files oyles and beats them throughly on a stith Makes weights and wyere fit then by the Sunne Sets the new course which it doth truly runne Then going vp the steeples top he spies The weather-cocke how palpably it lies For at each Corner the Kings-fishers stood Full South and that the Dial prooued good But the fond Weather-cocke being wâ—ather-wise From the Calme blast turn'd his scornefull eyes The Sexton tooke him downe and straight did see An easie way how he might mended be His head was too too great with 3. combes crownde Which euer when the wind blew turn'd him round His taile was too too weake when euery feather Was bent with storms and broken with the weather The Sexton cut his crownes and gaue more saile With them and with the spurs vnto his tayle So humbled now in habite looke and minde He waites with due obedience on the winde Knowes his high place was not to rule but serue And means no more from this strict course to swerueâ— This tale no mortall needs it is not darke But points a worke fit for our learned Clarke Who by the Dyal may reforme the Clocke And by kings fishers turne the Weather-cocke We haue the winde to helpe vs and the Sunne And works are halfe accomplisht when begun Then who 'le begin who is on our side who Where words winde writings faile resolue to Doe I had thought this Tale should haue needed no other â—ongue then it s owne to bee rightly vnderstood But because I see it too misty for some apprehensions whose wills are as desirous as others to know truth I haue added this by way of illustration to enlighten such as accept well of my good meaning which is to informe others according to that which I haue receiâ—ed and to be reformed where I erre my selfe 1. First the teaching part of the militant Church which consists of the Clergie I haue vayled vnder the Clâ—ckeâ— The wheeles are the distinct degrees and offices they enâ—oy of superioritie and inferioritie wherein the