Keep the truth, which thou hast found; men do not
In so il! case, that God hath with his hand [stand
Sign'd kings blank-charters, to kill whom they hate,
Nor are thy vicars, but hangmen, to fate.
Fool and wretch, wilt thou let thy soul be ty'd
To man's laws, by which she shall not be try'd
At the last day? Or will it then boot thee
To say a Philip or a Gregory,

A Harry or a Martin taught me this?
Is not this excuse for mere contraries,
Equally strong? cannot both sides say so? [know;
That thou may'st rightly obey power, her bounds
Those past her nature and name's chang'd; to be
Then humble to her is idolatry.

As streams are, power is; those bless'd flowers, that dwell

At the rough stream's calm head, thrive and do well; But having left their roots, and themselves given To the stream's tyrannous rage, alas! are driven Through mills, rocks, and woods, and at last, almost Consum'd in going, in the sea are lost:

So perish souls, which more choose men's unjust Power, from God claim'd, than God himself to trust.

SATIRE IV.

WELL; I may now receive, and die. My sin
Indeed is great, but yet I have been in
A purgatory, such as fear'd Hell is
A recreation, and scant map of this.

Me to hear this, yet I must be content
With his tongue, in his tongue call'd compliment:
In which he can win widows, and pay scores,
Make men speak treason, cozen subtlest whores,
Out-flatter favourites, or outlie either
Jovius or Surius, or both together.

He names me, and comes to me; I whisper, "God!
How have I sinn'd, that thy wrath's furious rod,
This fellow, chooseth me." He saith, "Sir,
I love your judgment; whom do you prefer,
For the best linguist?" and I sillily

Said, that I thought Calepine's Dictionary.

66

Nay, but of men, most sweet sir?" Beza then, Some Jesuits, and two reverend men

Of our two academies I nam'd; here
He stopp'd me, and said: "Nay, your apostles were
Good pretty linguists, so Panurgus was;
Yet a poor gentleman; all these may pass
By travel;" then, as if he would have sold
His tongue, he prais'd it, and such wonders told,
That I was fain to say, " If you had liv'd, sir,
Time enough to have been interpreter

To Babel's bricklayers, sure the tow'r had stood."
He adds, "If of court-life you knew the good,
You would leave loneness." I said, "Not alone
My loneness is; but Spartan's fashion,

To teach by painting drunkards, doth not last
Now; Aretine's pictures have made few chaste;
No more can princes' courts, though there be few
Better pictures of vice, teach me virtue." ["O, sir,
He, like to a high-stretch'd lute-string, squeak'd,

I had no suit there, nor new suit to show,
Yet went to court; but as Glare, which did go
To mass in jest, catch'd, was fain to disburse
The hundred marks, which is the statute's curse,
Before he scap'd; so 't pleas'd my destiny
(Guilty of my sin of going) to think me
As prone to all ill, and of good as forget-
Ful, as proud, lustful, and as much in debt,
As vain, as witless, and as false as they
Which dwell in court, for once going that way
Therefore I suffer'd this: towards me did run
A thing more strange, than on Nile's slime the Sun
E'er bred, or all which into Noah's ark came :
A thing which would have pos'd Adam to name:
Stranger than seven antiquaries' studies,
Than Afric's monsters, Guiana's rarities,
Stranger than strangers: one, who for a Dane
In the Dane's massacre had sure been slain,
If he had liv'd then; and without help dies,
When next the 'prentices 'gainst strangers rise;
One, whom the watch at noon lets scarce go by;
One, t' whom th' examining justice sure would cry,
"Sir, by your priesthood, tell me what you are."
His clothes were strange, though coarse; and black
though bare;

Sleeveless his jerkin was, and it had been
Velvet, but 't was now (so much ground was seen)
Become tufftaffaty; and our children shall
See it plain rash awhile, then nought at all.
The thing hath travell'd, and faith speaks all tongues,
And only knoweth what t' all states belongs.
Made of th' accents, and best phrase of all these,
He speaks one language. If strange meats displease,
Art can deceive, or hunger force my taste;
But pedant's motley tongue, soldiers bombast,
Mountebank's drug-tongue, nor the terms of law,
Are strong enough preparatives to draw

Said I, "the man that keeps the abbey tombs,
And for his price doth, with whoever comes,
Of all our Harrys and our Edwards talk,
From king to king, and all their kin can walk:
Your ears shall hear nought but kings; your eyes
Kings only; the way to it is King's Street." [meet
He smack'd, and cry'd, "He's base, mechanic

coarse;

[see,

So 're all your English men in their discourse.
Are not your Frenchmen neat?" "Mine, as you
I have but one, sir, look, he follows me."
"Certes they 're neatly cloth'd. I of this mind am,
Your only wearing is your grogaram."
"Not so, sir, I have more." Under this pitch
He would not fly; I chaf'd him: but as itch
Scratch'd into smart, and as blunt iron ground
Into an edge, burts worse: so I, fool, found,
Crossing hurt me. To fit my sullenness,
He to another key his style doth dress :
And asks, what news; I tell him of new plays,
He takes my hand, and as a still which stays
A semibrief 'twixt each drop, he niggardly,
As lothe to enrich me, so tells many a lie,
More than ten Hollensbeads, or Halls, or Stows,
Of trivial household trash he knows; he knows
When the queen frown'd or smil'd, and he knows
what

A subtle statesman may gather of that;
He knows who loves whom; and who by poison
Hastes to an office's reversion;

He knows who 'hath sold his land, and now doth beg
A licence old iron, boots, and shoes, and egg-
Shells to transport; shortly boys shall not play
At span-counter or blow point, but shall pay
Toil to some courtier; and, wiser than all us,
He knows, what lady is not painted. Thus
He with home meats cloys me. I belch, spew, spit,
Look pale and sickly, like a patient, yet

"For a king

The Spaniards came to th' loss of Amyens.
Like a big wife, at sight of loathed meat,
Ready to travail: so I sigh, and sweat
To hear this macaron talk in vain; for yet,
Either my honour or his own to fit,

He, like a privileg'd spy, whom nothing can
Discredit, libels now 'gainst each great man.
He names a price for every office paid;
He saith, our wars thrive ill, because delay'd;
That offices are entail'd, and that there are
Perpetuities of them, lasting as far

As the last day; and that great officers
Do with the pirates share, and Dunkirkers.
Who wastes in meat, in clothes, in horse he notes;
Who loves whores, * * * **

Wants reach all states. Me seems they do as well At stage, as court: all are players; whoe'er looks (For themselves dare not go) o'er Cheapside books, Shall find their wardrobe's inventory. Now

The ladies come. As pirates, which do know
That there came weak ships fraught with cochineal,
The men board them; and praise (as they think)
well
[bought.

Their beauties; they the men's wits; both are
Why good wits ne'er wear scarlet gowns, I thought
This cause: these men men's wits for speeches buy,
And women buy all reds, which scarlets dye.
He call'd her beauty lime-twigs, her hair net:
She fears her drugs ill laid, her hair loose set.
Would n't Heraclitus laugh to see Macrine
From hat to shoe, himself at door refine,
As if the presence were a Moschite; and lift
His skirts and hose, and call his clothes to shrift,
Making them confess not only mortal

I, more amaz'd than Circe's prisoners, when
They felt themselves turn beasts, felt myself then
Becoming traitor, and methought I saw
One of our giant statues ope his jaw
To suck me in, for hearing him; I found
That as burnt venomous leachers do grow sound
By giving others their sores, I might grow
Guilty, and he free: therefore I did show
All signs of loathing; but since I am in,
I must pay mine and my forefather's sin
To the last farthing. Therefore to my power
Toughly and stubbornly I bear this cross; but th'
Of mercy now was come: he tries to bring [hour
Me to pay a fine to 'scape his torturing, [lingly;"
And says, "Sir, can you spare me?" I said, "Wil-
"Nay, sir, can you spare me a crown?" Thank-
Gave it, as ransom; but as fiddlers still, [fully I
Though they be paid to be gone, yet needs will
Thrust one more jig upon you; so did he
With his long complemental thanks vex me.
But he is gone, thanks to his needy want,
And the prerogative of my crown: scant
His thanks were ended when I (which did see
All the court fill'd with such strange things as he)
Ran from thence with such, or more haste than one,
Who fears more actions, doth haste from prison.
At home in wholesome solitariness
My piteous soul began the wretchedness
Of suitors at court to mourn, and a trance
Like his, who dreamt he saw Hell, did advance
Itself o'er me: such men as he saw there
I saw at court, and worse, and more. Low fear
Becomes the guilty, not th' accuser. Then
Shall I, none's slave, of high born or rais'd men
Fear frowns? and, my mistress Truth, betray thee
To th' huffing, braggart, puff'd nobility?
No, no; thou, which since yesterday hast been
Almost about the whole world, hast thou seen,
O Sun, in all thy journey, vanity,

Such as swells the bladder of our court? I
Think, he which made your waxen garden, and
Transported it from Italy, to stand

With us at London, flouts our courtiers, for
Just such gay painted things, which no sap nor
Taste have in them, ours are; and natural
Some of the stocks are, their fruits bastard all.
'T is ten o'clock and past; all whom the Meuse,
Baloun, tennis, diet, or the stews

Had all the morning held, now the second
Time made ready, that day in flocks are found
In the presence, and I, (God pardon me)
As fresh and sweet their apparels be, as be

Great stains and holes in them, but venial
Feathers and dust, wherewith they fornicate:
And then by Durer's rules survey the state
Of his each limb, and with strings the odds tries
Of his neck to his leg, and waste to thighs.
So in immaculate clothes and symmetry
Perfect as circles, with such nicety,
As a young preacher at his first time goes
To preach, he enters; and a lady, which owes
Him not so much as good will, he arrests,
And unto her protests, protests, protests;
So much as at Rome would serve to 've thrown
Ten cardinals into the Inquisition;
And whispers by Jesu so oft, that a
Pursuivant would have ravish'd him away,
For saying our lady's psalter. But 't is fit
That they each other plague, they merit it.
But here comes Glorious, that will plague them both,
Who in the other extreme only doth
Call a rough carelessness good fashion;
Whose cloak his spurs tear, or whom he spits on,
He cares not, he. His ill words do no harm
To him, he rushes in, as if, Arm, Arm,
He meant to cry; and though his face be as ill
As theirs, which in old hangings whip Christ, still
He strives to look worse, he keeps all in awe;
Jests like a licens'd fool, commands like law.
Tird now I leave this place, and but pleas'd so,
As men from jails to execution go,

Go through the great chamber (why is it hung
With the seven deadly sins?) being among
Those Askaparts, men big enough to throw
Charing-cross for a bar, men that do know
No token of worth, but queen's man, and fine
Living, barrels of beef, and flaggons of wine.
I shook like a spy'd spy. Preachers, which are
Seas of wit and arts, you can, then dare
Drown the sins of this place, for, for me,
Which am but a scant brook, it enough shall be
To wash the stains away: although I yet
(With Machabee, modesty) the known merit
Of my work lessen: yet some wise men shall,
I hope, esteem my wits canonical.

SATIRE V.

THOU shalt not laugh in this leaf, Muse, nor they, Whom any pity warms. He which did lay

OF THE

Within a point at most: yet for all this
(Which is most strange) Natta thinks no man is
More honest than himself. Thus men may want
Conscience, whilst being brought up ignorant,
They use themselves to vice. And besides those
Illiberal arts forenam'd, no vicar knows,
Nor other captain less than he, his schools
Are ordinaries, where civil men seem fools,
Or are for being there; his best books, plays,
Where, meeting godly scenes, perhaps he prays.
His first set prayer was for his father's ill,
And sick, that he might die: that had, until
The lands were gone he troubled God no more;
And then ask'd him but his right, that the whore
Whom he had kept, might now keep him: she spent,
They left each other on even terms; she went
To Bridewell, he unto the wars, where want
Hath made him valiant, and a lieutenant'
He is become: where, as they pass apace,
He steps aside, and for his captain's place
He prays again: tells God, he will confess
His sins, swear, drink, dice, and whore thenceforth
On this condition, that if his captain die
And he succeed, but his prayer did not; they
Both cashier'd came home, and he is braver now
Than his captain: all men wonder, few know how,
Can he rob? No;-Cheat? No;-or doth he spend
His own? No. Fidus, he is thy dear friend,
That keeps him up. I would thou wert thine own,
Or thou had'st as good a friend as thou art one.
No present want nor future hope made me
Desire (as once I did) thy friend to be:
But he had cruelly possess'd thee then,
And as our neighbours the Low-Country men,
Being (whilst they were loyal, with tyranny
Oppress'd) broke loose, have since refus'd to be
Subject to good kings, I found even so

[less,

Wert thou well rid of him, thou 't have no moe. Could'st thou but choose as well as love, to none Thou should'st be second: turtle and demon Should give the place in songs, and lovers sick Should make thee only Love's bieroglyphic: Thy impress should be the loving elm and vine, Where now an ancient oak with ivy twine, Destroy'd thy symbol is. O dire mischance! And, O vile verse! And yet our Abraham France Writes thus, and jests not. Good Fidus for this Must pardon me: satires bite when they kiss. But as for Natta, we have since fall'n out: Here on his knees he pray'd, else we had fought. And because God would not he should be winner, Nor yet would have the death of such a sinner, At his seeking, our quarrel is deferr'd, I'll leave him at his prayers, and as I heard, His last; and, Fidus, you and I do know I was his friend, and durst have been his foe, And would be either yet; but he dares be Neither yet. Sleep blots him out and takes in thee. "The mind, you know, is like a table-book, The old unwip'd new writing never took." Hear how the husher's checks, cupboard and fire I pass'd: (by which degrees young men aspire In court) and how that idle and she-state (When as my judgment clear'd) my soul did hate, How I found there (if that my trifling pen Darst take so hard a task) kings were but men, And by their place more noted, if they err; How they and their lords unworthy men prefer; And, as unthrifts, had rather give away Great sums to flatterers, than small debts pay; VOL. V.

So they their greatness hide, and greatness show,
By giving them that which to worth they owe:
What treason is, and what did Essex kill?
Not true treason, but treason handled ill:
And which of them stood for their country's good?"
Or what might be the cause of so much blood?
He said she stunk, and men might not have said
That she was old before that she was dead.
His case was hard to do or suffer; loath
To do, he made it harder, and did both :
Too much preparing lost them all their lives,
Like some in plagues kill'd with preservatives.
Friends, like land-soldiers in a storm at sea,
Not knowing what to do, for him did pray.
They told it all the world; where was their wit?
Cuffs putting on a sword, might have told it.
And princes must fear favourites more than foes,
For still beyond revenge ambition goes.
How since her death, with sumpter horse that Scot
Hath rid, who, at his coming up, had not
A sumpter-dog. But till that I can write
Things worth thy tenth reading, dear Nick, good
night.

SATIRE VII.

MEN write, that love and reason disagree,
But I ne'er saw 't express'd as 't is in thee.
Well, I may lead thee, God must make thee see;
But thine eyes blind too, there's no hope for thee.
Thou say'st, she 's wise and witty, fair and free;
All these are reasons why she should scorn thee.
Thou dost protest thy love, and would'st it show
By matching her, as she would match her foe:
And would'st persuade her to a worse offence
Than that, whereof thou didst accuse her wench.
Reason there's none for thee; but thou may'st vex
Her with example. Say, for fear her sex
Shun her, she needs must change; I do not see
How reason e'er can bring that must to thee.
Thou art a match a justice to rejoice,
Fit to be his, and not his daughter's choice.
Dry'd with his threats, she'd scarcely stay with thee,
And would'st th' have this to choose, thee being free?
Go then and punish some soon gotten stuff;
For her dead husband this hath mourn'd enough,
In hating thee. Thou may'st one like this meet;
For spite take her, prove kind, make thy breath

sweet:

Let her see she 'th cause, and to bring to thee
Honest children, let her dishonest be.

If she be a widow, I'll warrant her
She 'll thee before her first husband prefer ;
And will wish thou had'st had her maidenhead;
(She 'll love thee so) for then thou had'st been dead.
But thou such strong love and weak reasons hast,
Thou must thrive there, or ever live disgrac'd.
Yet pause awhile, and thou may'st live to see
A time to come, wherein she may beg thee.
If thou 'It not pause nor change, she 'll beg thee

now,

Do what she can, love for nothing allow.
Besides, here were too much gain and merchandise;
And when thou art rewarded, desert dies.
Now thou hast odds of him she loves, he may doubt
Her constancy, but none can put thee out.
Again, be thy love true, she 'll prove divine,
And in the end the good on 't will be thine:
M