PARTURIUNT madido quae nixu praela, recepta,

Sed quae scripta manu, sunt veneranda magis.

Qui liber in pluteos, blattis cinerique relictos,

Si modo sit praeli sanguine tinctus, abit;

  5Accedat calamo scriptus, reverenter habetur,

Involat et veterum scrinia summa Patrum.

Dicat Apollo modum; Pueros infundere libro

Nempe vetustatem canitiemque novo.

Nil mirum, medico pueros de semine natos,

10Haec nova fata libra posse dedisse novo.

Si veterem faciunt pueri, qui nuperus, Annon

Ipse Pater Iuvenem me dabit arte senem?

Hei miseris senibus! nos vertit dura senectus

Omnes in pueros, neminem at in Iuvenem.

15Hoc tibi servasti praestandum, Antique Dierum,

Quo viso, et vivit, et juvenescit Adam.

Interea, infirmae fallamus taedia vitae,

Libris, et Coelorum aemulâ amicitiâ.

Hos inter, qui a te mihi redditus iste libellus,

20Non mihi tam charus, tam meus, ante fuit.

Q VOD arte ausus es hic tuâ, Poeta,

Si auderent hominum Deique juris

Consulti, veteres sequi aemularierque,

O omnes saperemus ad salutem.

  5His sed sunt veteres araneosi;

Tam nemo veterum est sequutor, ut tu

Illos quod sequeris novator audis.

Fac tamen quod agis; tuique primâ

Libri canitie induantur horâ:

10Nam chartis pueritia est neganda,

Nascanturque senes, oportet, illi

Libri, queis dare vis perennitatem.

Priscis, ingenium facit, laborque

Te parem; hos superes, ut et futuros,

15Ex nostrâ vitiositate sumas,

Quâ priscos superamus, et futuros.

Q VI prius assuetus Serpentum fasce Tabellas

Signare, (haec nostrae symbola parva Domus)

Adscitus domui Domini, patrioque relicto

Stemmate, nanciscor stemmata jure nova.

  5Hinc mihi Crux primo quae fronti impressa lavacro,

Finibus extensis, anchora facta patet.

Anchorae in effigiem Crux tandem desinit ipsam,

Anchora fit tandem Crux tolerata diu.

Hoc tamen ut fiat, Christo vegetatur ab ipso

10Crux, et ab Affixo, est Anchora facta, Iesu.

Nec Natalitiis penitus serpentibus orbor,

Non ita dat Deus, ut auferat ante data.

Quâ sapiens, Dos est; Quâ terram lambit et ambit,

Pestis; At in nostra fit Medicina Cruce,

15Serpens; fixa Cruci si sit Natura; Crucique

A fixo, nobis, Gratia tota fluat.

Omnia cum Crux sint, Crux Anchora facta, sigillum

Non tam dicendum hoc quam Catechismus erit.

Mitto nec exigua, exiguâ sub imagine, dona,

20Pignora amicitiae, et munera; Vota, preces.

Plura tibi accumulet, sanctus cognominis, Ille

Regia qui flavo Dona sigillat Equo.

A   SHEAFE of Snakes used heretofore to be

  My Seal, The Crest of our poore Family.

Adopted in Gods Family, and so

Our old Coat lost, unto new armes I go.

  5The Crosse (my seal at Baptism) spred below,

Does, by that form, into an Anchor grow.

Crosses grow Anchors; Bear, as thou shouldst do

Thy Crosse, and that Crosse grows an Anchor too.

But he that makes our Crosses Anchors thus,

10Is Christ, who there is crucifi'd for us.

Yet may I, with this, my first Serpents hold,

God gives new blessings, and yet leaves the old;

The Serpent, may, as wise, my pattern be;

My poison, as he feeds on dust, that's me.

15And as he rounds the Earth to murder sure,

My death he is, but on the Crosse, my cure.

Crucifie nature then, and then implore

All Grace from him, crucified there before;

When all is Crosse, and that Crosse Anchor grown,

20This Seal's a Catechism, not a Seal alone.

Under that little Seal great gifts I send,

〈Wishes,〉 and prayers, pawns, and fruits of a friend.

And may that Saint which rides in our great Seal,

To you, who bear his name, great bounties deal.

S LEEP, next Society and true friendship,

Mans best contentment, doth securely slip

His passions and the worlds troubles. Rock me

O sleep, wean'd from my dear friends company,

  5In a cradle free from dreams or thoughts, there

Where poor men ly, for Kings asleep do fear.

Here sleeps House by famous Ariosto,

By silver-tongu'd Ovid, and many moe,

Perhaps by golden-mouth'd Spencer too pardie,

10(Which builded was some dozen Stories high)

I had repair'd, but that it was so rotten,

As sleep awak'd by Ratts from thence was gotten:

And I will build no new, for by my Will,

Thy fathers house shall be the fairest still

15In Excester. Yet, methinks, for all their Wit,

Those wits that say nothing, best describe it.

Without it there is no Sense, only in this

Sleep is unlike a long Parenthesis.

Not to save charges, but would I had slept

20The time I spent in London, when I kept

Fighting and untrust gallants Company,

In which Natta, the new Knight, seized on me,

And offered me the experience he had bought

With great Expence. I found him throughly taught

25In curing Burnes. His thing hath had more scars

Then Things himselfe; like Epps it often wars,

And still is hurt. For his Body and State

The Physick and Counsel which came too late,

'Gainst Whores and Dice, hee nowe on mee bestowes

30Most superficially: hee speaks of those

(I found by him) least soundly who most knows:

He swears well, speakes ill, but best of Clothes,

What fits Summer, what Winter, what the Spring.

He had Living, but now these waies come in

35His whole Revenues. Where each Whore now dwells,

And hath dwelt, since his fathers death, he tells.

Yea he tells most cunningly each hid cause

Why Whores forsake their Bawds. To these some Laws

He knows of the Duello, and touch his Skill

40The least lot in that or those he quarrell will,

Though sober; but so never fought. I know

What made his Valour, undubb'd, Windmill go,

Within a Pint at most: yet for all this

(Which is most strange) Natta thinks no man is

45More 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 then he; His Schools

50Are Ordinaries, where civil men seem fools,

Or are for being there; His best bookes, Plaies,

Where, meeting godly Scenes, perhaps he praies.

His first set prayer was for his father, ill

And sick, that he might dye: That had, until

55The 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 Bridewel, he unto the Wars, where want

60Hath made him valiant, and a Lieutenant

He is become: Where, as they pass apace,

He steps aside, and for his Captains place

He praies again: Tells God, he will confess

His sins, swear, drink, dice and whore thenceforth less,

65On this Condition, that his Captain dye

And he succeed; But his Prayer did not; They

Both cashir'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

70His own? No. Fidus, he is thy dear friend,

That keeps him up. I would thou wert thine own,

Or thou'hadst 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:

75But he had cruelly possest thee then,

And as our Neighbours the Low-Country men,

Being (whilst they were Loyal, with Tyranny

Opprest) broke loose, have since refus'd to be

Subject to good Kings, I found even so,

80Wer't thou well rid of him, thou't have no moe.

Could'st thou but chuse as well as love, to none

Thou should'st be second: Turtle and Damon

Should give thee place in songs, and Lovers sick

Should make thee only Loves Hieroglyphick:

85Thy 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 your Abraham France

Writes thus, and jests not. Good Fidus for this

90Must pardon me, Satyres bite when they kiss.

But as for Natta, we have since faln 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,

95At his seeking, our Quarrel is deferr'd,

I'll leave him at his Prayers, and (as I heard)

His last; Fidus, and you, and I do know,

I was his friend, and durst have been his foe,

And would be either yet; But he dares be

100Neither; Sleep blots him out and takes in thee.

"The mind, you know is like a Table-book,

"Which, th'old unwipt, new writing never took.

Hear how the Huishers Checques, Cupbord and Fire

I pass'd; by which Degrees young men aspire

105In Court; And how that idle and she-state,

Whenas my judgment cleer'd, my soul did hate;

How I found there (if that my trifling Pen

Durst take so hard a Task) Kings were but men,

And by their Place more noted, if they erre;

110How they and their Lords unworthy men prefer;

And, as unthrifts had rather give away

Great Summs to flatterers, than small debts pay,

So they their weakness hide, and greatness show,

By giving them that which to worth they owe:

115What Treason is, and what did Essex kill,

Not true Treason, but Treason handled ill;

And which of them stood for their Countries good,

Or what might be the Cause of so much Blood.

He said she stunck, and men might not have said

120That she was old before that she was dead.

His Case was hard, to do or suffer; loth

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.

125Friends, like land-souldiers 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 Favorites more then Foes,

130For 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) goodnight.

MEN write that love and reason disagree,

But I ne'r saw't exprest as 'tis in thee.

Well, I may lead thee, God must make thee see,

But, thine eyes blinde too, there's no hope for thee.

  5Thou say'st shee's wise and witty, faire and free,

All these are reasons why she should scorne thee.

Thou dost protest thy love, and wouldst it shew

By matching her as she would match her foe:

And wouldst perswade her to a worse offence,

10Then that whereof thou didst accuse her wench.

Reason there's none for thee, but thou may'st vexe

Her with example. Say, for feare her sexe

Shunne her, she needs must change; I doe not see

How reason e'r can bring that must to thee.

15Thou art a match a Iustice to rejoyce,

Fit to be his, and not his daughters choyce.

Urg'd with his threats shee'd scarcely stay with thee,

And wouldst th'have this to chuse thee, being free?

Goe then and punish some soone-gotten stuffe,

20For her dead husband this hath mourn'd enough,

In hating thee. Thou maist one like this meet;

For spight take her, prove kinde, make thy breath sweet,

Let her see she hath cause, and to bring to thee

Honest children, let her dishonest bee.

25If shee be a widow, I'll warrant her

Shee'll thee before her first husband preferre,

And will wish thou hadst had her maidenhead;

Shee'll love thee so, for then thou hadst bin dead.

But thou such strong love, and weake reasons hast,

30Thou must thrive there, or ever live disgrac'd.

Yet pause a while; and thou maist live to see

A time to come, wherein she may beg thee;

If thou'lt not pause nor change, she'll beg thee now.

Doe what she can, love for nothing shee'll allow.

35Besides, her〈s〉 were too much gaine 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.

Againe, be thy love true, shee'll prove divine,

40And in the end the good on't will be thine:

For thou must never think on other love,

And so wilt advance her as high above

Vertue as cause above effect can bee:

'Tis vertue to be chast, which shee'll make thee.

C OME, Fates; I feare you not. All whom I owe

 Are paid, but you. Then rest me ere I goe.

But, Chance from you all soveraignty hath got,

Love woundeth none but those whom death dares not;

  5Else, if you were, and just, in equitie

I should have vanquish'd her, as you did me.

Else Lovers should not brave death's pains, and live,

But 'tis a rule, Death comes not to relieve.

Or, pale and wan deaths terrours, are they lay'd

10So deepe in Lovers, they make death afraid?

Or (the least comfort) have I company?

Orecame she Fates, Love, Death, as well as mee?

Yes, Fates doe silke unto her distaffe pay,

For their ransome, which taxe on us they laye.

15Love gives her youth, which is the reason why

Youths, for her sake, some wither and some die.

Poore Death can nothing give; yet, for her sake,

Still in her turne, he doth a Lover take:

And if Death should prove false, she feares him not;

20Our Muses, to redeeme her she hath got.

That fatall night wee last kiss'd, I thus pray'd,

Or rather, thus despair'd; I should have said:

Kisses, and yet despaire? The forbid tree

Did promise (and deceive) no more then shee.

25Like Lambs that see their teats, and must eat Hay,

A food, whose tast hath made me pine away.

Dives, when thou saw'st blisse, and crav'dst to touch

A drop of water, thy great paines were such.

Here griefe wants a fresh wit, for mine being spent,

30And my sighes weary, groanes are all my rent;

Vnable longer to indure the paine,

They breake like thunder, and doe bring down rain.

Thus, till dry teares soulder mine eyes, I weepe;

And then, I dreame, how you securely sleepe,

35And in your dreames doe laugh at me. I hate,

And pray Love, All may: He pitties my state,

But sayes, I therein no revenge should finde;

The Sunne would shine, though all the world were blind.

Yet, to trie my hate, Love shew'd me your teare;

40And I had dy'd, had not your smile beene there.

Your frowne undoes me; your smile is my wealth;

And as you please to looke, I have my health.

Me thought, Love pittying me, when he saw this,

Gave me your hands, the backs and palmes to kisse.

45That cur'd me not, but to beare paine gave strength,

And what it lost in force, it tooke in length.

I call'd on Love againe, who fear'd you so,

That his compassion still prov'd greater woe;

For, then I dream'd I was in bed with you,

50But durst not feele, for feare't should not prove true.

This merits not your anger, had it beene,

The Queene of Chastitie was naked seene;

And in bed, not to feele, the paine I tooke,

Was more then for Actæon not to looke.

55And that brest which lay ope, I did not know,

But for the clearnesse, from a lump of snowe,

Nor that sweet teat which on the top it bore

From the rose-bud, which for my sake you wore.

These griefs to issue forth, by verse, I prove,

60Or turne their course, by travaile, or new love:

All would not doe. The best at last I tryde:

Unable longer to hould out I dyed.

And then I found I lost life, death by flying:

Who hundreds live are but soe long a dying.

65Charon did let me passe: I'le him requite.

To marke the groves or shades wrongs my delight.

I'le speake but of those ghosts I found alone,

Those thousand ghosts, whereof myself made one,

All images of thee. I ask'd them, why?

70The Judge told me, all they for thee did dye,

And therefore had for their Elisian blisse,

In one another their owne Loves to kisse.

O here I miss'd not blisse, but being dead;

For loe, I dream'd, I dream'd; and waking said,

75Heaven, if who are in thee there must dwell,

How is't, I now was there, and now I fell.

SHALL I goe force an Elegie? abuse

My witt? and breake the Hymen of my muse

For one poore houres love? Deserves it such

Which serves not me, to doe on her as much?

  5Or if it could, I would that fortune shunn:

Who would be rich, to be foe foone undone?

The beggars best is, wealth he doth not know;

And but to shew it him, encreases woe.

But we two may enjoye an hour? when never

10It returnes, who would have a losse for ever?

Nor can so short a love, if true, but bring

A halfe howres feare, with the thought of losing:

Before it, all howres were hope; and all are

(That shall come after it,) yeares of dispaire.

15This joye brings this doubt, whether it were more

To have enjoy'd it, or have died before?

T'is a lost paradise, a fall from grace,

Which I thinke, Adam felt more then his race.

Nor need those angells any other Hell;

20It is enough for them, from Heaven they fell.

Besides, Conquest in love is all in all;

That when I liste, shee under me may fall:

And for this turne, both for delight and view,

I'le have a Succuba, as good as you.

25But when these toyes are past, and hott blood ends,

The best enjoying is, we still are frends.

Love can but be frendshipps outside; their two

Beauties differ, as myndes and bodies do.

Thus, I this great Good still would be to take,

30Vnless one houre, another happy make:

Or, that I might forgett it instantlie;

Or in that blest estate, that I might die.

But why doe I thus travaile in the skill

Of despis'd poetrie, and perchance spill

35My fortune? or undoe myself in sport

By having but that dangerous name in Court?

I'le leave, and since I doe your poet prove,

Keep you my lines as secret as my Love.

TRUE Love findes witt, but he whose witt doth move

Him to love, confesses he doth not love:

And from his witt, passions and true desire

Are forc'd as hard, as from the flint is fire.

  5My love's all fire whose flames my soule do nurse,

Whose smokes are sighes; whose every sparke's a verse.

Doth measure women win? Then I know why

Most of our Ladies with the Scotts doe lie.

A Scott is measur'd in each syllable, terse

10And smooth as a verse: and like that smooth verse

Is shallow, and wants matter, but in his handes,

And they are rugged; Her state better standes

Whom dauncing measures tempted, not the Scott:

In brief she's out of measure, lost, soe gott.

15Greene-sickness wenches, (not needes must but) may

Looke pale, breathe short; at Court none so long stay.

Good witt ne're despair'd there, or Ay me said:

For never Wench at Court was ravished.

And shee but cheates on Heaven, whom you so winne

20Thinking to share the sport, but not the sinne.

D EARE Love, continue nice and chaste,

 For, if you yeeld you doe me wrong,

Let duller wits to loves end haste,

I have enough to wooe thee long.

  5All paine and joy is in their way;

The things we feare bring lesse annoy

Then feare; and hope brings greater joy;

But in themselves they cannot stay.

Small favours will my prayers increase;

10Granting my suit you give me all,

And then my prayers must needs surcease,

For, I have made your Godhead fall.

Beasts cannot witt nor beauty see,

They mans affections onely move;

15Beasts other sports of love doe prove,

With better feeling farre than we.

Then Love prolong my suite, for thus

By losing sport, I sport doe win;

And that may vertue prove in us,

20Which ever yet hath beene a sinne.

My comming neare may spie some ill,

And now the world is given to scoffe;

To keepe my Love, (then) keepe me off,

And so I shall admire thee still.

25Say I have made a perfect choyce,

Satietie our Love may kill;

Then give me but thy face and voyce,

Mine eye and eare thou canst not fill.

To make me rich (oh) be not poore,

30Give me not all, yet something lend,

So I shall still my suite commend,

And you at will doe lesse or more.

But, if to all you condescend,

My love, our sport, your Godhead end.

THE State and mens affaires are the best playes

Next yours; 'Tis nor more nor lesse than due praise.

Write, but touch not the much descending race

Of Lords houses, so settled in worths place,

  5As but themselves none thinke them usurpers.

It is no fault in thee to suffer theirs.

If the Queene Masque, or King a hunting goe,

Though all the Court follow, Let them. We know

Like them in goodnesse that Court ne'r will be,

10For that were vertue, and not flatterie.

Forget we were thrust out; It is but thus,

God threatens Kings, Kings Lords, as Lords doe us.

Iudge of strangers, Trust and believe your friend,

And so me; And when I true friendship end,

15With guilty conscience let me be worse stonge,

Then with Pophams sentence theeves, or Cookes tongue

Traitors are. Friends are our selves. This I thee tell

As to my friend, and to my selfe as Counsell;

Let for a while the times unthrifty rout

20Contemne learning, and all your studies flout.

Let them scorne Hell, they will a Sergeant feare,

More then wee that; ere long God may forbeare,

But Creditors will not. Let them increase

In riot and excesse as their meanes cease;

25Let them scorne him that made them, and still shun

His Grace, but love the whore who hath undone

Them and their soules. But; that they that allow

But one God, should have religions enow

For the Queens Masque, and their husbands, far more

30Then all the Gentiles knew, or Atlas bore!

Well, let all passe, and trust him who nor cracks

The bruised Reed, nor quencheth smoaking flaxe.

IF great men wrong me, I will spare my selfe;

  If meane, I will spare them. I know that pelf

Which is ill got the Owner doth upbraid.

It may corrupt a Iudge, make me afraid

  5And a Iury; But 'twill revenge in this,

That, though himselfe be judge, hee guilty is.

What care I though of weaknesse men taxe me,

I had rather sufferer than doer be.

That I did trust, it was my Natures praise,

10For breach of word I knew but as a phrase.

That judgement is, that surely can comprise

The world in precepts, most happy and most wise.

What though? Though lesse, yet some of both have we,

Who have learn'd it by use and misery.

15Poore I, whom every pety crosse doth trouble,

Who apprehend each hurt thats done me, double,

Am of this (though it should sinke me) carelesse,

It would but force me to a stricter goodnesse.

They have great odds of me, who gaine doe winne,

20(If such gaine be not losse) from every sinne.

The standing of great mens lives would afford

A pretty summe, if God would sell his Word.

He cannot; they can theirs, and breake them too.

How unlike they are that they are likened to?

25Yet I conclude, they are amidst my evils,

If good, like Gods, the naught are so like devils.