your wiues most neate and all things else It is a shame you Gown'd-men of the Law For t is with you that I must put the Case Although I know you doe not care a straw What I doe tell you yet vnto your face I say it is a shame and ill befits That you should sell your shreds of Law Writs At so deere rate to many a poore mans losse And not bestow one Fee to mend this Crosse For many pious Acts and Monuments The Citie will for euer be commended Many faire Colledges with goodly rents From zeale of Kings and Bishops are descended And many priuate men our ages wonders Haue vnto famous Hospitals beene founders But where suruiues that worke of Charitie That from a Lawyer drawes his pedigree Redeeme your fame you law-full Barristers And let the world speake better of your zeale The commons say which are no flatterers That halfe the riches of the Common-weale Is in your hands or will be if you liue Because you alwaies take and nothing giue And that your Fees which certaine were of old Are now vncertaine like a Coppi-hold And yet they say you are so honest growne You will not take your Fee to plead a cause Though once you had a Fee you now haue none That single word accords not with the Lawes It must come showring in a golden flood Or some of you will doe a man small good And whatso'ere men giue you 'l not forsake it Because you know that by the Law you take it Thus doe the vulgars talke and you can tell Whether this fame be true or else a lyer But howsoere it be you may doe well To let poore Charity come neere your fire And warme her selfe that men no more may hold The charity of Lawyers to be cold It will mens loud with admiration draw To see some Gospell ioyn'd with Common-law And for the first good worke of your deuotion When next you trample to the spacious Hall Let Charing-crosse entreat you heare her Motion That for your succour by the way doth call Build vp her ruynes and restore her glory Which time and graceles hands made transitory And let her be as faire to looke vpon As is the stately Crosse at Abington Profit and honour certainely will spring Both to your soules and calling by this sight Into your minde good motions it will bring As you passe by to doe your Clyents right To your vocation will arise from hence A good report and greater reuerence When with a crosse she 's top'd faire caru'd vnder THIS IS THE LAWYERS WORKE good Reader wonder To leaue conceits that vanish as a dreame And which our age shall scarce report as true Let vs proceede to our intented Theame For now to Westminster wee neerer drew Which when I did consider and withall Into what danger we were like to fall If we went thither I began to thinke It were not best to goe so farre to drinke The reason why thus farre I did proceed And traine my Muse along from Temple-Barre Was to auoid the obiect which did breed The raging passion that did Reason marre Therefore I thought the further I conuaid her From sight of Cuckolds which so furious made her She would be sooner pleas'd because we finde That out of sight is quickly out of minde But when I now conceau'd that it might proue As dangerous to goe forward as retyre And that like to a Flounder I did moue Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire Because through Westminster wild Courtiers range And if there be no Cuckolds it is strange Forward I durst not goe but turned back Greatly perplexed where to drinke our Sack Whilst thus I walk't much troubled and dismayde A voyce I heard which from a window spake And cald come hither so I thought it said And thereupon my spirit gan awake And vpward I did lift mine eyes to see If that I knew the place or who was he That did me call when by the Signe I found It was a shop whose wares lay vnder ground It is a place whereas old Sherry sacke Is kept in durance in a dungeon deepe Attended by young Beagles at his backe Whose yawling throats will neuer let him sleepe But when that he would take his rest they spowte him And grieuously they hoope pipe about him And for to let him bloud they neuer stint Into a Gallon Pottle Quart or Pint. There lyes he Pris'ner to the God of Drinke Entomb'd within a Coffin like a Barrell Because hee was so forward as I thinke With good stale English-Beere to picke a quarrell For hee no sooner came vpon our shore And met March-beere which he nere saw before But straight perforce they two must try a fall Where both were cast and spewd against the wall Which thing when Bacchus heard he for them sent And Sacke condemn'd to dungeon darke as night Because he was so bold and insolent On English ground against March-Beere to fight Beere by his doome was barreld vp aliue Because that with a stranger hee would striue But was committed to a lighter vault For in his owne defence he made th' assault Not farre from Sherry sacke in prison lye Many braue Spirits for the like offence Whom Bacchus vseth with great tyrannie And for their liberty will not dispence Vntill the cruell Iaylour with his spawne Of little Currs in peeces hath them drawne And many hundred times hath let them blood Which he sophisticates as he thinks good In dreadfull darkenesse Alligant lies drownd Which marryed men inuoke for procreation Next vnto him briske Claret is fast bound Which addes to Venison more acceptation Another corner holds pale colour'd White Which to see Iordane doth a man incite And feeble Renish on the Rack there striues And calls for helpe to Merchants and their wiues Strong hoop'd in bonds are here constrain'd to tarry Two kinsmen neere allyde to Sherry Sack Sweet Malligo and delicate Canary Which warme the stomacks that digestion lacke They had a Page whom if I can make meeter I le let you know they call'd him See mee Peter But being found he did no great offence Paying his fees he soone was drawne from thence Farre in the Dungeon lyes a dainty youth With his sweet Brother as their names make known Vnlawfully begotten in the South And therefore are cal'd Bastards white and browne For loue to these haue women beene conuicted And still vnto them some are so addicted Although with other drinks their minds are pleased Yet without Bastard they are neuer eased Within the vtmost limits of this Cell Surrounded with great Hogs-heads like to burst Old Muscadine without his egges doth dwell And Malmsey though last nam'd yet not the worst Yet these are better vs'd then all the rest For seldome doe the Beagles them mollest But in a morne for then our vse is most To call for these and drinke them with a Tost Compast with fetters these and many more Tumble in darknesse one vpon another And
Pasquils Palinodia AND His progresse to the Tauerne Where after the suruey of the SELLAR you are presented WITH A pleasant pynte of Poeticall Sherry Nulla placere diu nec viuere carmina possunt quae scribuntur aquae potoribus Horac ad mecaenatem Quem non Huc huc pierides Castalius or Vinum Hispanense LONDON Printed by THOMAS SNODHAM 1619. APPROBATIO Jnnocuos censura potest permittere lusus Lasciua est nobis pagina vita proba est Sic censeo M. Valerius Martialis THE PRINTER To the Reader GENTLEMEN I vnderstand that the AVTHOR is so farre out of patience to heare that this Pasquill is prest for the publike view which was entended onely for the priuate satisfaction of his peculiar friends that hee will not greet the READER so much as with a Letter of Commendations yet considering that in these dayes we are altother carryed away with Fashions and that it is quite beside the custome to put forth a Poem without a Dedicatorie preamble let mee I pray you make bold for want of a better scholler to salute the courteous Reader with a few words of Complement Who the Author is I know not therefore on his behalfe I will be silent yet I heare that hee is of the minde of that merry Huntsman which would neither giue nor sell his Hare but when he saw the Trauailer gallop away with her and that hee was out of hope to haue her againe he cryed out Take her Gentleman I will bestow her on you Concerning the Poem although I shall be thought to be sutor vltra crepidam yet in my opinion it is a tollerable Pint of Poeticall Sherry and if the Muses Seller afford no worse wine it will make Sacke better respected and goe downe the merrier What the peeuish puritanicall and meager Zoilist out of his malitious humour shall calumniate it skils not for as the Prouerbe is aut bibat aut abeat This dish was not drest to set his Dog-teeth on worke and therefore if he like not these Lettice let him pull backe his lips for as the Poet saith Non lux non cibus est suauis illi Nec potus iuuat aut sapor lyaei Nec si pocula Iupite propinet c. He was borne with teeth and grynd when he first came into the world he feedes vpon snakes drinks small-beere and vinegar keepes no good company liues without charitie and dyes without honestie hic finis Zoili Notwithstanding for the ingenious and candidous Readers and all those fat honest men which are of a franke and sociable disposition I dare be bold to promise that this dish of drinke will not be distastfull vnto any of their stomackes for as they haue bodies of a better constitution so are their minds more fairely qualified and their iudgements freer from corruption and therefore to their taste is this Pinte of Poetrie dedicated which if it seeme pleasant to their palate let mee be well payd for presenting them with it in paper and I rest satisfied Libellus ad Lectorem ex Martiale RVmpitur invidia quidam charissime Lector quod me turba legit rumpitur invidia Rumpitur invidia quòd sum iucundus amicis quòd conviva frequens rumpitur invidia Rumpitur invidia quod amamur quodque probamur rumpatur quis quis rumpitur invidia Non nimium cure nam caenae fercula nostrae malim conviuis quà m placuisse Cocis Pasquils Palinodia OR His Pynte of Poetrie LOe I the man whose Muse whilome did play A horne-pipe both to Country and the Citty Am now againe enioyn'd to sing or say And tune my crowde vnto another ditty To comfort Moone-fac'd Cuckolds that were sad My Muse before was all in hornes yclad But now she marcheth forth and on her backe She weares a Corslet of old Sherry Sacke Therefore it is not as in dayes of yore When bloud-shed and fierce battailes were her song And when her Trumpets did Tantara rore Till all her murth'ring Souldiers lay along A milder tune she now playes on her strings And Carrols to good company she sings To all good fellowes that are wise in Season Listen a while and you shall know the reason Long had she Chaunted for the horned Crew And reap'd no praise nor penny from their hands Nor cup of drinke which is a Fidlers due As euery good companion vnderstands And therefore vnregarded being dry My Muse grew melancholy out a-cry And angry forth she runs into the streetes Cursing each churlish Cuckold which she meetes When I beheld her in that moody vaine Which wont to be so blythe and full of sport After I ran to call her home againe Least she might chaunce to meete some man of sort Some wealthy tradesman that had been Cornuted Of whose large hornes it must not be disputed And in this crabbed humour fall to rayle And so be had to Counter without bayle When I my sullen Muse had ouertooke I gan reproue her for her wilde behauiour And charg'd her to returne as she did looke Euer to be receiu'd into my fauour But she as mad as is in March a Hare Did like vnto a Bedlam stampe and stare And for an houre her patience was so weake And rage so prest her that shee could not speake At last when passion was a little sway'de And that the raynes of fury gan to slack A thousand curses on the head she said Of euery Cuckold that cries What de' e lacke May all their hornes grow visible to sight May they proue Iealous and their women light And care not who looke on that all may geere And laugh aloud when their Rams-heads appeare And may discredit scorne and fowle disdaine Light on the hornes of euery English Goate Vngratefull churles that reward my paine Not with so much as with a single groat Haue I wip'd off the scurrilous disgrace Which euery Varlet cast vpon their face And righted all their wrongs yet none so kinde As with faire words to shew a thankefull minde If I had Chroniceld the hungry Rats Which eate vp Corne and made prouision deare Or Registred what price a Cade of Sprats And pickl'd Herrings bare in such a yeare What grim-fac'd Collier stood vpon the Pillâ—ry And who did march most brauely at Th'artillary Or how men walk'd on Thames the last great 〈…〉 ost Then I am sure my paynes had not been â—ost But I haue labour'd to redeeme their fame And lift their heads to honour with my pen Disolu'd all Clouds that did obscure the same And ranckt them with the worthiest sorts of men I crown'd their horns with bayes grac'd theÌ„ more Then euer any Muse hath done before And yet no Cuckold from the forked rankes Puts out his weathers-face to giue me thankes If for their wiues I had my lampe-oyle spent And in their seruice drawne my Inke-horne dry Those louing creatures would withall content Haue sought me out my loue to gratifie Kisses and confects had falne with my wishes
reason which is here presented My Muse to see the Tauerne was contented Yet to the Cittie faine she would haue gone Yeelding a reason for to draw me thither As that their wine was better ten to one Neere to th' exchange where Marchants meet together But I halfe Iealous where great numbers be That some grand Cuckold she might chance to see And in this heate of Furye fall to iarre Drew her along at last through Temple-Barre Keepe in your heads my Neighbours of the Strand And looke not out vntill my Muse be past Your Wiues are good for ought I vnderstand And yon may be no Cuckolds and they chast Yet least my Muse might chance for to discry Something might stirre her bile as she walkes by For peace-sake I entreate you euery one You would pull in your heads till she be gone Fairely we marched on till our approach Within the spacious passage of the Strand Obiected to our sight a Sommer-broach Ycleap'd a May-pole which in all our Land No Citty Towne nor streete can parralell Nor can the lofty spire of Clarken-well Although he haue the vantage of a Rock Pearch vp more high his turning weather-cock Stay quoth my Muse and here behold a signe Of harmelesse mirth and honest neighborhood Where all the Parish did in one combyne To mount the rod of peace and none withstood Where no capritious Constables disturbe them Nor Iustice of the peace did seeke to curbe them Nor peeuish Puritan in rayling sort Nor ouer-wise Church-warden spoyl'd the sport Happy the age and harmelesse were the dayes For then true loue and amity was found When euery village did a May-pole raise And Whitson-ales and May-games did abound And all the lusty Yonkers in a rout With merry Lasses daunc'd the rod about Then friendship to their banquets bid the guests And poore men far'd the better for their feasts Then raign'd plaine honest meaning and good will And neighbours tooke vp points of difference In Common lawes the Commons had no skill And publique feasts were Courts of Conscience Then one graue Seriant at the Common-pleas Might well dispatch the Motions at his ease And in his owne hands though he had the Law Yet hardly had a Clyent worth a straw Then Lords of Castles Mannors Townes Towers Reioyc'd when they beheld the Farmers flourish And would come downe vnto the Sommer-Bowers To see the Country gallants dance the Morris And somtimes with his tennants handsome daughter Would fall in liking and espouse her after Vnto his Seruing-man and for her portion Bestow on him some Farme without extortion But since the Sommer-poles were ouerthrowne And all good sports and merryments decayd How times and men are chang'd so well is knowne It were but labour lost if more were said And therefore I le be silent for I hold They will not mend although their faults be told Nor is it safe the spur-gal'd world to pricke For shee 's a lusty Iade and Iades will kicke Alas poore May-poles What should be the cause That you were almost banish't from the earth You neuer were rebellious to the lawes Your greatest crime was harmelesse honest mirth What fell malignant spirit was there found To cast your tall Piramides to ground To be some enuious nature it appeares That men might fall together by the eares Some fierie Zealous Brother full of spleene That all the world in his deepe wisedome scornes Could not endure the May-pole should be seene To weare a cox-combe higher then his hornes He tooke it for an Idoll and the feast For sacrifice vnto that painted beast Or for the wooden Troian Asse of sinne By which the wicked merrie Greeks came in But I doe hope once more the day will come That you shall mount and pearch your Cocks as high As ere you did and that the Pipe and Drum Shall bid defiance to your enemy And that all Fidlers which in corners lurke And haue beene almost staru'd for want of worke Shall draw their Crowds and at your exaltation Play many a fit of merry recreation And thou my natiue towne which was of old When as thy Bon-fiers burn'd and May-poles stood And when thy Wassall-cups were vncontrol'd The sommer-Bower of peace and neighberhood Although since these went down thou ly'st forlorn By factious schismes and humors ouer-borne Some able hand I hope thy rod will raise That thou maist see once more thy happy daies And now conceiue vs to be come as farre As the perspicuous fabrick of the Burse Against which frame the old Exchange makes warre Misdoubting that her trading would be worse By the erection of that stately front Which cryes what lack ye when men looke vpon 't But for thy takings Gresham take no care Thou wilt haue doings whilst thou hast good ware Whil'st Coaches and Caroaches are i' th world And women take delight to buy fond Bables And o're the stones whilst Ladies will be hurld For which their horses are still kept i' th stables And whilst thy shops with prettie wenches swarm Which for thy custome are a kinde of charme To idle gallants thou shalt still be sure To haue good vtterance for thy furniture And therefore be not enuious nor conspire Against thy yonger Sisters small beginnings Thou art so rich thy trade cannot retyre And she so poore thou need'st not feare her winnings If ought doe raise her head as who can tell It is her lowlinesse will make things sell Her sole humility will vent her wares For if men wil not climb shel'e come down stayers If she this open course had kept before And out of sight her shops had not withdrawne Doubtlesse her takings would haue been much more For points gloues garters cambrick-smocks lawn The man of trade which doth the world begin Seldome growes rich if he keepe shop within For by this meanes no custome can be gotten And ere he sell his wares they will be rotten And therefore let a Tradesman that would thriue First get a shop in some faire streete of taking My next aduice is that he fairely wiue For such a toy is many a yong-mans making Then let his shop be stuft on euery side With new additions to increase vaine pride And he shall see great Gallants with huge Broaches Light at his dore from Male and Female Coaches The Burse of Brittaine left behinde our backe Wee now aproach the crosse ycleaped Charing A weather-beaten peece which goes to wracke Because the world of Charitie is sparing Hang downe thy head O Westminster for shame And all you Lawyers which passe by the same Blush if you can and are not brazen faced To see so faire a monument disgraced Doe you not see how London hath repaired And trim'd her Sister with great charge and cost And though her head was from her shoulders pared Yet she is now restor'd and fairely crost Braue Free-men I applaud you for this thing And will one day your further praises sing Meane while my Muse in commendation tels You keepe