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
PHILOMYTHIE or PHILOMYTHOLOGIE wherin Outlandish Birds Beasts and Fishes are taught to speake true English plainely By Tho Scot Gent. Philomithus est aliquo modo philosophus fabula enim ex miris constituitur The second edition much inlarged LONDON for Francis Constable at the white Lyon in Paules church yard 1622 TORTI TOTO MVNDO A PRAEMONITION TO THE INTELLIGENT READER Lest hee finding his affection or opinion crost in the praise or dispraise of some particular should thereby be drawn to reade or reiect the rest with Praeiudice WHO safely in the streame would swim Must free from weeds keepe euery lym Lest slâ—â—e vnto himselfe he grow And vulgar humour drawes him low Or vâ—nâ—ring in the deeps too weake Opinions windie bladder breake We ought both in our selues and friends To hate all acts with doubtfull ends And loue euen in our foes the good Which may be seuer'd from their blood And if the times mislead vs so To sooth those sinnes we would not do At least like free-men let vs thinke What 's good and bad although we winke To this free nature if you finde These busie papers much inclinde Yet pardon them and iâ—dge arâ—ght A free man not a slaue did write Reade for your pleasure close the Booke On th' innocent out side all may looke Th' intelligent within may prie But barre th' Intelligencers eye THOMAS SCOT SARCASMOS MVNDO OR The Frontispice explaned HOw apt is Man to erre Antiquitie Thinks it sees right and yet sees all awry Our sight is impotâ—nt the helpe we haue By Art-full spâ—ctacles doth much dâ—praue The truth of obiects And tradition saith Bookes vse to lyâ— And Bookes dâ—ny her faith Ecclipses of the Sunnâ— were wonders thought Till sage Milesiâ—â— the cause out-sought And man had not the wit to make a doubt Of halfe the world till fortune found it out But what this Age hath sâ—ene makes that sâ—eme truth The laughing wiseman wrote which made the youth Shed teares to reade it that more worlds remaine Still vndiscouer'd then are yet made plaine Deâ—pe diuing Paracelâ—us findes the ground With minerals and mettals to abound More proper for our humors then the weedâ—sâ— Hearbs plants flowers which spring from weaker seedsâ— This earth we liue on and do stedfast call Copernicus proues gidâ—y-brainde and all Those other bodies whose swift motions we So wonder at he setled finds to be Till sanctifi'd Ignatius and his brood Found out the lawfull way of shedding blood And prou'd it plainly that a sâ—biâ—ct might Murther â—is Prince we fondly vsde t' indite Such persons of high treason Now before them We kneele we pray we worship and adore them For with their merits now w'arâ— morâ— acquaintâ—d And know for zealous Paâ—riotâ— they are sâ—incted His power that doth it till of latâ— we doâ—bted But now who quâ—stions it to death are floutâ—d Thâ—n lâ—t what I propound no wonder sâ—eme Though doting age new truthes do disesteeme For time may makâ— it plaine and reason too May beare it out though sure with much adoe Causes forâ—gâ—â—â—ffâ—cts by course of kinde Yet first th' â—ffâ—ct and then the cause we finde And so much I do here propound the thing But strongâ—r reason afâ—â—r-times may bring Attend my Doctrine then I say this Earth On which we tread from whence we take our birth Is not as some haue thought proportion'd round And Globe-liâ—e with sâ—ch zonâ—s and girdles bound As Poets or more lyerâ— Trâ—uâ—llâ—rs sâ—y But shapâ—d awry and lookes another way It is a monstrous Creature like a Mâ—n Thrust altogâ—ther on a heape we can Distinguisâ— no part goggle cyes wide mouth Eares that reach both the poles from north to south Crump-shouldrâ—d breast back thighs together The legs and feet all one if it hath â—ither In breefe it is the greatest Master Dâ—uill Throâ—ne downe from heauen in whose wombâ— euery cuill Is radically fixt and from thence springs Infusing natiuâ— euill in all such things As it doth breâ—d and nourish The place of Hâ—ll Is in his wombe there lesser deuils dwell And when he stirres a limme or breakâ—th winde We call 't an earth-quake and the danger finde Kings Emperours and mighty mâ—n that tread In â—ighest state are lâ—ce vpon his head The Pope and all his traine are skipping â—leas That know no bounds but lâ—ape lands-law and seasâ— The râ—st are nits or body-lycâ— that craule Out of his sweat sâ—ch vermin are we all From heauen this monster fell and now doth lye Bruzde with the fall past all recouery Neither aliue nor dead nor whole nor sound Sinking and swimming in a sea profound Of sinnâ— and punishment of paine and terror Of learnâ—d ignorance and knowing error No wonder then that we who liuâ— and dye On cursâ—d earth do all things thus awry Being monstrous in our mannâ—rs and our minds And mixing in the lust-full change of kinds That we are full of passions doubts and feares And daily fâ—ll together by the eares No wonder that the Clâ—rgie would be Kings Kings Church-men Lords and Ladies equall things So like in painting spotting starching all That Ladies Loâ—ds and Lords we Madams call For euen as Hares change shape and sex some sâ—y Once â—uery yeare these whores do euâ—ry day So that Hirquittall and his wife were waken By Succubus and Incubus mistaken No wonder that Diuines the Parasites play In ieast and earnest Actors euery way No wondâ—r that some theâ—ues doe Lawyers proue Since all these euils by course of nature moue So fâ—rre that it is questionâ—d ' mongst the wise Which now is vertue and which now is vice Two Crooâ—backs not the third Dick Gloster hight We will haue none of him for he would fight Debate this question each assumes his part Aesope for vertue stands and all his art Is to instruct the world to leaue the sinne And folly which it lyes incompast in Weâ—ps to behold it circled so with vices Whose serpentine and poysond sting inticâ—s To fâ—ding pleasure and to deadly paine By vse soone caught but hardly left againâ— He wries his necke at earth but 't is to see How out of order euery part will bee He wills each Râ—â—der if my tales be darke To iudge the best the morall still to marke And wâ—ere they finde a doubtfull meaning there To hold an euâ—n course and with compassâ— stere But where strict rigor might inforce a doubt Tâ—incline to â—auour and to helpe me out On th' other side doth learned â—ortâ—s stand Concomitant and beares the world in hand That Aesope and some Stigmaticks beside In shape and wit did call well-fauour'd Pride A vice because themselues were so deform'd At euery pleasure they with malice storm'd But wiser much he doth with better face With equall wit worth knowledge but lesse grace Confront such fond assertions lookes awry On all the world of vertue giues the lye To iudgement and with crooked minde and backe Tâ—â—â—sites-like vnloades this learned packe He teacheth
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
first that Aesope was a slaue But Man 's free borne and freedome ought to haue To worke hâ—s owne good pleasure fayre content Who liues not thus hath his whole life mis-spent This rule he followes and laies violent hands On all that his pride lust and will with-stands Calls his affection reason his desire And appetite sets all his world on fire His childe his wife his neighbour or his friend Is for his pleasure lou'd without that end No King no great Lord can forget so soone And slight dâ—sert as he hath often done Bastards are true legitimates he â—aith And enemies then friâ—nds haue far more faith His nâ—ighbors are most strangers and before A modest wife he likes a shamelâ—sse whore For many whores he â—aith he often kept Without disturbance but one night hauing slept In twenty yeares with his true wife th' assault Of many Sumners did correct the fault What we terme cowardice he doth valure call And in that valure he exceedeth all An oyster-wife once beat him brauely hee Bore all her blowes but wanted heart to â—lec He will on Sundaies with an Abbot dine On Frydaies with a brother Libertâ—ne And euery day drinke health 's vp to the eye He treads not right vnlesse he treads awry The Maa of sinne himselfe is not more free In doing all forbiddâ—n sinnes then hee For what he speaâ—es or teâ—cheth writes or reads Only speaks pâ—easuâ—e aud to pleasure leads Had Nerâ—'â— froward Tutor too precise Been like our Philoâ—â—rchâ—â— pleâ—sure wise And pliant to all humors but the good He had with â—urâ—â—ts dyd'e not lacâ—e of bloodâ— Learn'd Aâ—â—tine he reads and can expound His modest pictures with a touch profound That part is his of â—uery tongue and arâ—e Which stricter Iaâ—â—â—â— tremble at and starte To hearâ— recited This this man is hâ—e Who on the forefront you with Aeâ—ope see Aeâ—opâ— that looâ—es awry on all mâ—ns vice But this on vertue casteth scornefull eyes Aeâ—ope mâ—kes birds beasts fishes spâ—ake and liue As if tâ—eir liues should Mâ—n example giue To prâ—ctisâ— vertuâ— This with apt beheasts Doth teach all men how to becomâ— liâ—e beasts And 〈◊〉 wâ—ose life these creatures mâ—st resâ—mble Comesnâ—â—rest truâ—â— and sâ— doth leaâ—â— diâ—â—embleâ— Thâ—t Nature is the best gâ—ide if wâ— plâ—â—se To follow her then we must â—ollow 〈◊〉 For these obserâ—â— her rules and are not spoyl'd By arte nor haue their able organâ— foyl'd With abstinence and lacâ—e of vse but still Dirâ—cted are by appetite and will In Kings he would no other vertue see Then what in Lyons and in Eagles bâ—e To prey on all to make their will a law To tyrâ—nnize to rule by force and awe To feare no higher powers to do no good But liue to glâ—t themselues with guiltlâ—sse blood Courtiers he would hâ—ue fasâ—ion'd like to apes So fond their gestures so dâ—formde tâ—eir shapes So full of idle imitation found That scorne in them our stages might confound That they should starch paint white red blew yellow And then all blacke that other fooles might follow Diuines of Owlâ—s he would haue learne to shrieke As if they hated all the world did like But hauing got a tree and Iuy bush He then would haue them mute and dumbe and hush To serue all purposes to hate the light And prooue right Blackbirds childrâ—n of the night Men that want wit yet haue great place in State He woulâ— haue like to Parrots learne to prate Of others till with Almonds they wâ—re fed The rest likâ— Foxes he would still haue bred Closâ— crâ—ftie indirâ—ct to get by stealth The goods both of the Church and Common-wealth All subâ—ects and inferiors he would haue Themsâ—lues like Gâ—â—â—e and Asses to behaue Rich men and â—â—â—rers to swallow all Dirâ—cted by the Dolphine and the Whâ—le All mâ—n like Dogs to flatter and to bite And miâ—intâ—rpret what we speake or write He wills all those that on my payers looke To make each line a libell in my booke To poyson with their eyes whatâ—'ere they see And make themselues sport and make worke for me Not to beleeue the morall but to seeke Another meaning whatsoe're they like And call it mine and sweare I meant the same Although I would not persons plainly name And then he wils them laugh to seeke the ieast Anothers mischiefe makes a merry feast This Doctor is our Ages guide and Tutor The world his Schoole the flesh his Coadiutor No wonder then if we liue all awry When on our Master we cast steady eye For â— Alexâ—nderâ— necke can teach vs this The Schoole and Court by greatnes fashioâ—'d is Thus our great Masters crookednesse is spide In vs his followers who no good parts hide That he hath learn'd vs but proclaime aloud The cause which makes our vertuous Tutor proud If any seeke his name and list to come To schoole enquire for Mâ—rus Antrum A SVPPLY OF THE description of MONSIER PANDORSVS WALDOLYNNATVS that merry American Philosopher or the Wiseman of the New World being Antipode to Aesop placed with him as parallel in the front Done according to the simple truth of his owne naked deliuery And dedicated to THOMAS THVRSBY Esquire no lesse fit to be publicke then desirous of retirement and priuacie YOV shun all office though your state and wit With long experience makes you truly fit Wherefore Pandorsus wils me pricke you heere Shriefe in my booke who might be in the Sheere AS the East and West are opposite so stand These Wise-â—en in the front on either hand Aesope well known an Easterne witty thing But our Pandorsus Westerne fame I sing Whose picture in the Front whose markes before Behinde within without I late did score Yet lest that picture nor these markes should make His worth enough apparant briefely take His life anatomiz'de but chiefly where It may our sucklings with example rerâ— The lines are drawne euen by his owne true light From partiall flattery free and enuious spight Within that Sâ—iâ—re where Hyndes with dumplings fed Beget best Lawyers was Pandorsâ—s bread But for his Pâ—râ—nts were of better ranke And in a Coâ—ste Townâ— dwelt they Clarret dranke And wrie-mouth'd Plâ—iâ—â— brâ—ts buttsâ— and 〈◊〉 did eate And crooked Crabs with such prodigious meaâ—e Thus for a wonder they preparâ—d in feeding And such he prou'd who from that rootâ— had breeding Though no Pâ—n lora yet Pâ—ndorsus he For vice as famous as for vertuâ— shee Each God gaue her a grace and gâ—ue so much As more then Momus thought there was no such But what to her they gaue from him they tooke And now in vaine for grace in earth we looke Looke for effects according to the cause Our childrens faults aâ—e moulded in our mawes Tâ—is salt-water-daintie diet fâ—d The parts concupiscible and there bred An itching humor whence extracted was This quint essence of contraries this masse Of Natures shreds and parcels who partakes A part of all which imperfâ—ction makes A Foxes
wisdoms better part When all was Chaos first the Center stood And all the solide parts call'd Earth The flood Was next being ponderous The ayre flew higher And as a hedge to all was placed fire What first was plac'd was worthiest brought fortâ— The first of creatures and best things of worth And first it brought forth things that were below The roote had life before the fruit did gâ—ow And we earths darlings had our shape within Ere you without Nor doe th' effects of sin Ambitious sin which light and'knowledge sought And fondly curious blinde obedience thought A base director so afflict and kill Vs hâ—re within as you who share in ill Of punishment and guilt with foolish man Yet no way from his rule acquit ye can You dwell with him and dye with him But we Are earth by nature procreated free And our forefathers customes still obay Doe as they did and follow their blind way Not striuing busily our wits t' approue By searching doubts but rather shew our loue By louing euâ—n their errors that are gone Or reuerently beleeuing they had none Our dyet is most choice on rootes to feed And rellish first the sweet of euery seed You liue on th' excrement and do not know That fundamentall vertue springs below Besides you liue like slaues but I am free Though bloudy-minded Man oft seeks for me The Lyoâ— did pretend because I haue Foure feet that I by nature was his slaue He call'd for this a Councell sent for me To sweare to his seruile supremacie But I refusing th' othe to spite him more Did vndermine his Councell-chamber flore And had not light damn d light my plot bewraideâ— He had to hell sâ—nke by the traine I laide But light discouered me and since that deed I loath light more and so in darknesse breed Darknes thou sweet companion friend of sleepe How I delight in thee With thee doth keepe All that man seeks for euery secret plot Darke mysterie close sttatagem what not Inuisible wealth with treasures manifold But chiefe Mans soule his god almighty gold This Man knowes well and knowing learnes of me To dig and delue till in his graue he be Then all proclaime him happy say he is At peace and rest and doth emoy all blisse And such say truth for he returnes againe To his first being and doth so remaine Contentment with darke ignorance doth dwell And light and knowledge only maketh hell Then without farther strife liue all with mee If you will taste no paines nor errors see The changeable Chamelion laught out-right To heare the blinde Mole raile so much at light And said Your darker spirits can't conceiue The blessed fruit that we from light receiue Let fooles depend on faith implicatiue Wise-men into the depth of truth will diue Darknesse and ignorance which you suppose Had an eternall being are the foes Of all eternall beings and indeed Are voide in nature without fruit root seed Darknesse is but the absence of cleare light As error is the ignorance of right So these two are vacuities want being Not seene by others nor yet others seeing From nothing nothing springs something there was From whence this vniuersall frame this Masse Of strange agreeing contrarieties Had essence and 't was something that had eyes For sure it was not ignorance nor night They could not see to order things so right But it was knowledge wisedome light and truth Figur'd in mature age and actiue youth The priuiledge you plead Antiquitie Proues onely that of old you vs de to lye And that all truth you hate for truth doth run Still to the light and you the light do shun And where you challenge your creation first It is not like Nature would make the worst Before the best except this can preferre Your claime that as young workemen vse to erre In their first workes so Nature first did try To make right eyes by making yours awry Much rather truth it is she did bestow Labour in framing others but for you She left you to corruption night and chance Which made youâ— eies such such your countenance And your tame-blinde obedience well befits Such earth-bred doltish dull and sluggish wits But ayerie Spirits acquainted with the light Will not be led by custome from the right No loue no friends no predecessor shall Peruert their iudgements they examine all And for the food ye boast to eat boast still No root herbe fruit of yours I handle will They are corrâ—pted Ayre doth only giue True nourishment and happiest meanes to liue The sick-man shewes this who the weather fayre Remooues for health from close to th' open ayre And for the light your death doth it approoue When onlâ— then your eyes are seen to moue Then you begin to see and loath the kinde Which being blind themselues brought you vp blind Bereauing you of many a blesâ—ed sight Which we enioy â—ho loue and liue in light Your freedom from all beasts I like T' is ill â—o be sâ—biâ—cted to anothers will Bâ—t that to your superiors I do hate And therefore am exilde from euery state I liue a poore thin creature by the ayer My selfe I feed with hopes others with prayer My eyes I oft lift vp and roole about Dâ—siring to be sâ—en to be dâ—uout But neither with my bulke nor with my backe Supply the lâ—ast defect of others lacke I beare no Wooli to clothe no flesh to feed Let shâ—ep and Calues relecue the poore that need I rauisht go with a distracted looke Aâ—d turne my mind still as I turne my booke My will doth lead my conscience not my wit And euery riddle for my purpose fit Hating whats'ere is old I loue the new And to all purposes change my ready hue My flesh is low my spirit high and prowd Doth contradict what order hath allow'd I fast when others feast feast when they fast And with Angelicall food I do out-last All Gormandizâ—rs Come then liue with me All that loue life and light and would be free The Salamander hearing this discourse Sayd Sure you both do argue without force Darke ignorance our nature doth contemne And curious search wise Magistrates condemne By blindnesse we our wants and dotage shew To those not reuerence but reproch is due Not priuatiue blindnâ—sse our antiquitie showes But onely that which by long seeing growes But you blinde Mole do ignorance affect Which breeds derision scorne and dis-respect For what a senselâ—sse part is this in you Your fathers â—aults and errours to allow And not much rather to reforme your owne By shunning the defects which they haue showne Your food is grosse and earthly dirt and mould Mixt with old roots do much corruption hold Yet though they gin to die with age and wither The good with bad being old you cram togither This makes my fiery spirit scorne to keep Iâ— your darke celles where knowledge seems to sleep But you Chameleon with a hand too
if they had not attained preferment would haue thought themselues wronged and the world would haue thought them vnfortunate as if enuy had crost honour from beholding them with equiualence when now hauing attained what their ambitions desire they see their owne insufficiencies and the world iudging them vnworthy of such eminence say they serue for nothing but to keepe out better Men. Their high flight rather helpt by the winds strength by fauour and grace then by their owne wings vertue and true worth serues onely to shew the world it s owne blindnesse and their weakenesse for being aloft in the top and pride of their pitch they make many plaines and dare not come freely at all occasions but they soone stoop to the lure of the dead quarry hauing good stomackes but bad hearts what they speake what they doe as not out of their owne strength and sufficiency but from others direction They are french souldiers and Statesmen their horses their seruants must be Knighted for these did the seruice It was not the Rider his care was only to keepe the saddle warme and to sit sure Againe it tells Superiours that the poorest and most despised creatures may annoy them Lice presume into â—â—araohs bed-chamer in spite of the Guard the Vshers and Pensioners the Squires of the body the Gentleman and the Groomes where none durst come before but Minions and Fauorits Wormes craule into Herods wombe euen then when his flatterers and all the people crie out vox Deâ— non homâ—nis Hee spake well but he did nothing he vsed eloquence and learning to his owne glory not to Go ds God therefore shew'd him that he was a worme and no man who a little befote did both in place and voice shew himselfe like a god A â—lie skips into Pope Alexanders cup and into his throat and kils him who a little before chalenged to haue the keyes of life and death in his hands and with his cup of abominati on s poysoned not only the poore flies the subiects but the Eagles the kings of the earth Despise not therefore litle ones Remember how Sisera and Abimelech fell by the hand of women And Sigebert king of the West-saxons was slaine by a swine-heard of Combraâ—â—s euen in that place where Sigebert had slaine Combranus before for the good and wholsome counsell he gaue the vnthankfull King SOLARIVM DEDICATED To the absolute and open enemies of Ignorance and Darknesse and the true Louers and Followers of Light and Knowledge Sr. Iohn Crofts and his happy LADY THe Clock that chim'de your praise went right for still The Diall rulde his tongue the Sunne his Will And as these led him right you follow may To heauenly glory through the Milk-white-way IN some part of the World I know not where But sure Sâ— Thomas Mardâ—uile was there Betwixt a Clocke and a Sunne-dyall fell A difference which I with sorrow tell With sorrow for this error calls to minde Th' vncertainty which we in Story finde Where computations crosse and make vs doubt Of what we all seeke cannot one finde out How to agree and reconcile th' obscure The fabulous and câ—rtainâ— Age of our The Age obscure is that before the Floud The Fabulous on fained Wonders stood The race of gods on goldâ—n Legends told Where for sad truths mad â—ictions were enrold This latter Age more plaine and cleere we call The certaine Age or th' Age Historicall Yet houres and dayâ—s and yeeres haue sure been lost In some of these which our accounts haue crost And so they easily might when from the Sunne To lying Clocks for our accounts we runne This tale makes all apparant or at least Makes probable what some haue thought a ieast Within a Churchyard once a Dyall stood Vpon a square hewne Marble which the Flood In vaine with enuious waues had often sought To spoile when it the whole world vnder brought But Seth's wise sonnes had fastned it so sure It could all stormesâ— and streâ—â—e of times endure And thereon they had caru'd the Art and lore They learned of their Grandsire long beforeâ— Vpon a Church or steeples side neere hand A goodly Clocke of curious worke did stand Which ouer paysde with lead or out of frame Did time miscall and euery houre misname Thâ— Dyall hearing this aloud gan cry Kinde neighbour Clocke your glib tongue tells a lye Reforme your error for my Gnomonâ—aith â—aith You gad too fast and misse an houres faith Foole quoth the Clocke reforme thy selfe by me The fault may rather in thy Gnomon be Had'st thou tould euer truth to what end then Was I plac'de here by th' art of cunning Men The weather-Cocke vpon the steeple standing And with his sharpe eye all about commanding Heard their contention wil'd them to appeale To him the Chiefe of all that Common-weale Told them that he was set to Ouersee And to appease to guide and to agree All diff'rence in that place and whatso'ere He setteth downe from Iustice cannot erre For from the winde he information takes Which searcheth through the world swiftly makeâ— A true suruay of euery proofe and cause And doth of Reason know the ground and lawes He bids them boldly speake and bring their pleas And hee 'le define th' infallible truth with ease The Dial then beginnes The globe-like world From Center to Circumf rence being whorl'd In neuer-resting motion maketh â—ime In sundry reuolutions fall and clime This Time the measure of all mutable things Comes with lead-heeles flies hence with fiery wings Sleepes with two eyes hath two eyes euer waking Twixt minuts hours daies nights distinction making And though the diff'rence and degrees of change In seuerall yeares be wonderfull and strange Some by the Moone some reckoning by the Sunne And some the great yeare wheÌ„ th' heauens hauing ruâ— Their compleat course doe to that point arriue Whence the first mouer them did motion giue Yet the most generall certaine count of all Is measur'd by the Sunne whose rise and fall Makes day and night and noone and midnight too Spring Summer Winter Autumne and the two Solsticiums Equinoctials and the houres Now naked and then deck't in gaudy flowers This Adam to his Grandsons hauing told With other Arts and wonders manifold How all the world both fire and flood should try They plac'd me here to tell posterity Such hidden mysteries And to direct The wiser Soules deep-diuing intellect About me they haue grau'd seauen liberall Arts The Sciences with their diuiner parts A circle and a Gnomon set aboue With Characters which as the Sunne doth moue In his ascent or low declension tells The certaine houre degree and all things else But for my speech was slow and cause the Sunne Did often vnder clouds for pleasure runne Succeeding ages did this Câ—ocke out finde T' attend on me and to declare my minde From me intelligence and rules ro gather To measure night close stormes and cloudy weather And in
and Cate Vnder the ground and what new plots doe come bie did From hell or from hels Councel-chamber Rome And this and all els his blest hand reueales To his elect and with deliuerance seales Attend his pleasure then first we shall see Rome burne and all with Rome that lynked bee Then the whole world and that fire shall disclose Each truth each falshood and each cause of those Till then these waters doe but wash the slime Of Babel from this too indifferent time These petty fires kindle our loue and zeale Halfe-dead to King the Church coÌ„mon-weale Affliction profits Strike vs Lord in loue Let thy milde hand each way our firme faith proue But let not Babel triumph in our fall Nor any that on Baal or Dagâ—n call ANTIDOTVM CECILLIANVM DEDICATED To the Common-wealth DEsert hath no true follower after death But Enâ—y others flatter with their breath Jn vaine I sought particular Patrons they When life left greatnesse ran with life away Blood kindred friends forsooke him so 't was â—it We might haue doubted else his worth and wit Their compasse was too narrow to â—ield shade To him that both their rootes and fortuâ—es made But gentle England since he quiet gaue To thee by his cares giue his corps a graue And since his wisdome did renowne thy name Be thou a Sanctuary to his fame And since he gaue for thee his life and health Giue him protection thankefull Common wealth TO THE HONOVR of the illustrious Familie of the CECILLS deseruing of this Commmon-wealth all the Romane wreaths of triumph The memorable Pyramids of Egypt And all other Trophes of Eternitie AS by one mouer motion doth commence Euen from the Center to circumference So from one good Man many may arise Like-good like-apt like-faithfull and like-wise This now is verified The Cecills are Statesmen in time of pâ—ace Souldiers in warre Epicedium What needs thy Monument be rais'd What needs the Muses singthy worth What needs thy memory be prais'd Or what needs Art thy fame set forth Let Art time gold the Muse and Men Guild falshood folly ignorance Let them conspire gainst thee and then The more they shall thy worth aduance They worke write raile or praise to please But Truth giues vertue life not these Antidotum Cecillianum THESAVRVS INTVS Darius on a Graue stone found This Epitaph Who digs this ground Shall treasure finde The greedy King Dig'd there but found another thing Within was written Had'st not been A beastly-minded man I ween The harmâ—lesse bones of the deceast Had in their quiet tombes tane rest Who rips the coffins of the dead Finds same and honour thence are fâ—ed With life the Subiect of their Ire Stench onely stayes to pay their hire Worth hath his Epicedium sung By enuies shrill and slandrous tongue WHen this rich soule of thine now sâ—inted kept Her State on earth my humble Muâ—â— nere stept Out of that sweete content wherein shee dwelt To sing thy worth th' effâ—cts wherâ— of we felt But now since death hath freedome giuen to thee To see thy scorne made others flatterie And that each mouse on the dead Lyon leaps And euery riming â—en forg'd matter heaps On thy bright frame casting their owne base durt Vpon thy honour'd hearse minding more hurt To thee then ` Death or Heâ—â— can doe I may And must be bold or sinne this truth to say Each euidence thy foes bring speakes thy praise For what can more thy fame and glory raise Then to be rail'd on by the worst of menâ— Such as like out-lawes liue not in the ken Of Iustice or communitie Base slaues Whose crimes sins make their own nest their graus T' was meet thy vertues eminent and hie Should not vn-enâ—ied liue vnslandred dye For then we might haue fear'd thou hadâ—st not been So absolute a man now it is seen Euen by those many shadowes Enuâ— throwes That thy worth was substantiall and not showes Deâ—racâ—ionâ—s â—s perplext aud fâ—ies about Ouer a world of Acts to single out Some one or two in thy whole life to scan And proue by the what Death did thou wer't man Yet sâ—eing that past credit she descends To view thy body and her venom spends Not againâ—t it but nature which did shroud So great a sunne vnder so small a cloud But we that plainly see men sildome rise Though they be learn'd iudicious daring wise Except the body somewhat â—uites the minde And good cloathes sute the body too are blinde And mad with enuie if we yeeld not thee â—orth aboue thought who to that high degree Rose through the eminent parts of thy blest soule Aboue contempt disgrace scorne or controule Nature did recompence thy want of clay With heauenly fire thy body could not stay Thy actiâ—e soule heere longer t' was too light A clog to keepe from Heanâ—n so strong a spright Well might thy body be a soule to those Whose more grosse earthen soules did late compose Blacke libels gainst thy fame and rak'd so low Into thy purged excrements to know What foule disease durst kill thee and then found Many were guilty for it could not sound They thought like truth that one disease slue thee When they hauing all yet scape to Deddick free By this they shew that whatsoe're we thinke They know all these diseases by th' instinck They are familiar with them and of kin To their first causes of being deadly sinne And of the elders house too For the diuell Chiefe libeller formes all degrees of euill And like good boies of his these labour too More then disease or Death or Hell can doe To kill the soule and to bely a fame Which laughes to scorn all scorn shames all shame You that stand next the helme and thinkey're free From their sharpe viperous tongues it cannot be If death comes these Rauens follow and perchance Time fauouring their desires th'eile leade the dâ—nce And raile at you too T is not you they hate But our blest King Religion and the State And if which God forefend so stood the time Y 'ould see they could do worse then they can rime Now I haue throwne my selfe into the way To meete their rage and if I can to stay Their dog-like malice rather on my head Then suffer it pollute and wrong the dead If they alledge I giue him more then due You know their custome they cannot speake true But if they say I gaue him lesse their spite Shewes neither I nor they can do him right Antidotum Cecillianum OPPORTVNE TIBI IN TEMPESTIVE NOBIS The Sunne past by degrees those signes Which to his sotherne seate inclines And now in Leo sate aloft The sâ—eating labourer bans him ost The Shepheard melts and ore the Plaine His new shorne-sheepe seeke shades in vaine The Marchant Sea man euery Tâ—ade They say by him are Banckrupt made He heares it and at height of noone Hides his bright beames behinde the Moone They sadly know that dâ—th presage Dearth death