Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A11117
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Humors antique faces Drawne in proportion to his seuerall antique iestures.
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Rowlands, Samuel, 1570?-1630?
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1605
(1605)
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STC 21385.5; ESTC S109758
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8,632
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32
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law To saue his purse fill his deuouring mawe Yet thought the poore man how so it betide I le make him giue right sentence on my side Without delay vnto the Man he goes And vnto him this feyned tale doth gloze Quoth he my Cowe which wich your Oxe did feede Hath kild your Oxe and I make knowne the deede Why quoth my Politique thou shouldst haue helpt it rather Thou shalt pay for him if thou wert my father The course of lawe in no wise must be stayde Least I an euill president be made O Sir quoth he I cry you mercie nowe I did mistake you Oxe hath gorde my Cowe Conuict hy reason he began to brawle But was content to let his action fall As why quoth he thou lookst vnto her well Could I preuent the mischeife that befell I haue more weightie causes now to trie Might orecomes right without a reason why Epigram ONe of the damned crew that liues by drinke And by Tobacco's stillified stinke Met with a Countrie man that dwelt at Hull Thought he this peasant's fit to be my Gull His first salute like to the French-mans wipe Wordes of encounter please you take a pipe The Countrie man amazed at this rable Knewe not his minde yet would be conformable Well in a petty Ale-house they ensconce His Gull must learne to drinke Tobacco once Indeede his purpose was to make a iest How with Tobacco he the peasant drest Hee takes a whiffe with arte into his head The other standeth still astonished Till all his sences he doth backe reuoke Sees it ascend much like Saint Katherins smoake But this indeede made him the more admire He saw the smoke thought he his head 's a fyer And to increase his feare he thought poore soule His scarlet nose had been a fyerie cole Which circled round with Smoke seemed to him Like to some rotten brand that burneth dim But to shew wisdome in a desperat case He threw a Can of beere into his face And like a man some furie did inspire Ran out of doores for helpe to quench the fire The Ruffin throwes away his Trinidado Out comes huge oathes and then his short poynado But then the Beere soe troubled his eyes The countrie man was gon ere he could rise A fier to drie him he doth now require Rather then water for to quench his fire Epigram COme my braue gallant come vncase vncase Neare shall Obliuion your great actes deface He has been there where neuer man came yet An vnknowne countrie I I le warrant it Whence he could Ballace a good ship inholde With Rubies Saphers Diamonds and golde Great Orient Pearles esteem'd no more then moates Sould by the pecke as chandlers measure oates I meruaile then we haue no trade from thence O t is to far it will not beare expence T were far indeede a good way from our mayne If charges eate vp such excessiue gaine Well he can shew you some of Lybian grauel O that there were another world to trauel I heard him sweare that hee t was in his mirth Had been in all the corners of the earth Let all his wonders be together stitcht He threw the barre that great Alcides pitcht But he that sawe the Oceans farthest strands You pose him if you aske where Douer stands He has been vnder ground and hell did see Aeneas neare durst goe so farre a hee For he hath gone through Plutoes Regiment Saw how the Feindes doe Lyers there torment And how they did in helles damnation frye But who would thinke the Traueller would lye To dine with Pluto he was made to tarrie As kindely vs'd as at his Ordinarie Hogsheades of wine drawne out into a Tub Where hee did drinke hand-smooth with Belzebub And Proserpine gaue him a goulden bow T is in his chest he cannot shew it now Of one that cousned the Cut-purse ONe toulde a Drouer that beleeu'd it not What booties at the playes the Cut-purse got But if ' t were so my Drouers wit was quicke He vow'd to serue the Cut-purse a new tricke Next day vnto the play pollicy hy'd A bagge of fortie shillings by his side Which houlding fast hee taketh vp his stand If stringes be cut his purse is in his hand A fine conceited Cut-purse spying this Lookt for no more the fortie shillings his Whilst my fine Politique gazed about The Cut-purse feately tooke the bottom out And cuts the strings good foole goe make a iest This Dismall day thy purse was fairely blest Houlde fast good Noddy t is good to dreade the worse Your monie 's gone I pray you keepe your purse The Play is done and foorth the foole doth goe Being glad that he cousned the Cut-purse soe He thought to iybe how he the Cut-purse drest And memorize it for a famous iest But putting in his hand it ran quight throw Dash't the conceite hee le neuer speake on 't now You that to playes haue such delight to goe The Cut-purse cares not still deceiue him so A drunken fray DIcke met with Tom in faith it was their lot Two honest Drunkards must goe drinke a pot T was but a pot or say a little more Or say a pot that s filled eight times ore But beeing drunke and met well with the leese They drinke to healthes deuoutly on their knees Dicke drinkes to Hall to pledge him Tom reiectes And scornes to doe it for some odde respects Wilt thou not pledge him that 't a gull a Scab Wert with my man-hood thou deseruest a stab But t is no matter drinke another bout Wee le intot'h field and there wee le trie it out Le ts goe saies Tom no longer by this hand Nay stay quoth Dicke le ts see if we can stand Then foorth they goe after the Drunken pace Which God he knowes was with a reeling grace Tom made his bargaine thus with bonnie Dicke If it should chance my foote or so should slipp How wouldst thou vse me or after what Size Wouldst pare me shorter of wouldst let me rise Nay God forbid our quarrells not so great To kill thee on aduantage in my heate Tush wee le not fight for any hate or soe But for meere loue that each to other owe. And for thy learning loe I le shew a tricke No sooner spoke the worde but downe comes Dicke Well now quoth Tom thy life hangs on my sword If I were downe how wouldst thou keepe thy worde Why with these hilts I 'de braine thee at a blow Faith in my humor cut thy throate or soe But Tom he scornes to kill his conquered foe Lets Dicke arise and too 't againe they goe Dicke throwes downe Tom or rather Tom did fall My hilts quoth Dicke shall braine thee like a maull Is' t so quoth Tom good faith what remedie The Tower of Babelles fallen and soe am I But Dicke proceedes to giue the fatall wound It mist his throate but run into the ground but he supposing that the man was slaine Straight fled his countrie shipt himselfe for Spaine Whilst valiant Thomas dyed dronken deepe Forgot his danger and fell fast a sleepe Epigram WHat 's he that stares as if he were afright The fellowe Sure hath seene some dreadfull spright Masse rightly guest why sure I did diuine Hee 's haunted with a Spirit feminine In plaine termes thus the Spirit that I meane His martiall wife that notable curst queane No other weapons but her nailes or fist Poore patient Ideot he dares not resist His neighbor once would borrow hut his knife Good neighbor stay quoth hee I le aske my wife Once came he home Inspired in the head Hee found his neighbor and his wife a bed Yet durst not sturre but hide him in a hole He feared to displease his wife poore sole But why should he so dreade and feare her hate Since she had giuen him armour for his pate Next day forsooth he doth his neighbor meete Whome with sterne rage thus furiously doth greete Villaine I le slit thy nose out comes his knife Sirra quoth he goe to I le tell your wife Apaled at which terror meekely saide Retire good knife my furie is all laide Proteus TIme seruing humour thou wrie-faced Ape That canst transforme thy selfe to any shape Come good Proteus come away apace We long to see thy mumping Antique face This is the fellow that liues by his wit A cogging knaue and fawning Parrasit He has behauiour for the greatest porte And hee has humors for the rascall sorte He has been greate with Lordes and high estates They could not liue without his rare conceites He was associat for the brauest spirits His gallant carriage such fauour merrits Yet to a Ruffin humor for the stewes A right graund Captaine of the damned crewes With whome his humour alwaies is vnstable Mad melancholly drunke and variable Hat without band like cutting Dicke he go'es Renowned for his new inuented oathes Sometimes like a Ciuilian t is strange At twelue a clocke he must vnto the Change Where being thought a Marchant to the eye Hee tels strange newes his humor is to lie Some Damaske coate the effect thereof must heare Inuites him home and there he gets good cheare but how is' t now such braue renowned wits Weare ragged robes with such huge gastly slitts Faith thus a ragged humor he hath got Whole garments for the Summer are to hot Thus you may censure gently if you please He weares such Garments onely for his ease Or thus his creadit will no longer waue For all men know him for a prating knaue Epilogue VAnish ye hence ye changelings of the night For I descry your enemie the light Flye through the westerne Gate see you darke gleames Least in the east you meete with Phoebus beames Descend into your Orbes I say begon And thanke your gentle Master Oberon Tell him how well your gestures fit our rime being roughly model'd in so short a time For what you see presented to your sight I onely write to tyer out the night Wherein if you delight to heere me sing Wee le haue more trafique with the fayrie King E. M. FINIS