Rambling to quench his Flames from place to place And stockt his Heaven with a Bastard-race Rumag'd Alcoves and all their Beds defil'd 'Till all th' immortal Females were with Child What was his SON the great Alcides too But a meer Rambler like the wandring Iew About the World the mighty Lubbard strol'd In dull complyance to the heavenly Scold 'Till Rambling in the dark his way he lost And almost knockt his Brains out 'gainst a Post Which now to make amends and raise his Fame Posterity has honour'd with his Name Nothing in Nature's fixt and stedfast found But all things run an endless Circuit round Heaven and Earth the Sun and Moon and Stars What are they else but Rambling Travellers And that bright Cup which does so gaily shine Did use to Ramble at their Feasts divine 'Till Jove did it in that high place bestow To light poor drunken Ramblers here below Then On brave John to end thy great intents Incourag'd by such glorious Precedents That Unborn Ages may thy Works applaud And spread thy Praises like thy Books abroad 'Till all Mankind by thy Example won Like Staring-Kine when with the Gad-fly stung Around the World from Post to Pillar run And by this strange Fantastick Reformation RAMBLING become the only thing in Fashion A RAMBLER Anagram by the Author RARE BLAMe THy stubborn Anagram Friend scorns to submit To all the little Rules of Sence and Wit â—pregnable while to it self 't is true â—e must divide before we can subdue â—onsence in Gobbets will the Reader choak â—hich easily slips down when chaw'd and broke â—or let false Criticks thy false spelling Blam â—ut know 't is all for th' sake of thy Rare Anagram Rare is thy Fortune Rare shall be thy Fame â—hô nibbling Envy thee unjustly Blame â—et them that Blame thee mend thee if they dare 〈◊〉 not ingeniously confess 't is Rare But if some Faults the rest seem to disgrace â—As there 's a Mole we know in Venus ' Face â—l Flesh must own that even those faults are Rare â—or any Flesh alive can Blame 'em there Those of thy Trade who now imploy themselves â—h ' honest noble Art of Dusting Shelves â—hô they mock thee and flout thee not a Pin for their Blame do thou care â—r thou gerst Mony by 't and sure that 's wondrous Rare TO My much Esteemed Friend Iohn Evander AUTHOR of this BOOK ENTITULED A Voyage round the WORLD WElcome dear Friend to me and England too Welcome as ever I have been to you Ulisses like at last return'd agen Tho' more than he thou Manners knowst and Men Altho' but Two-Years thou he rambled Ten. What 's the small Mediterranean he was tost on To the main Sea what 's Ithaca to Boston There needs 't is true no Bush for such rare Wine There needs no Band for a good Face like thine Yet will I throw my little Venture in My Drop into thy goodly Kilderkin And if my Verse Eternity can give As sure old Songs make Robin Hood to live 〈◊〉 strain my Muse and Conscience e're we part 〈◊〉 let thy Rambles have their due desert Ca'ndish and Drake rub off avauat be gone â— greater Traveller now 's approaching on 〈◊〉 for one way at once did well 't is true 〈◊〉 his Inventions far more strange and new 〈◊〉 once he forward goes and backwards too â—hilst his dull Body's for New-England bound â—is Soul in Dreams troâ—s all the World around 〈◊〉 Cunning Men and Conjurers use this Trade â—ho still as Stocks have Sea and Land survey'd â—or think he writes more than he saw thô he â—se Authors to refresh his Memorie 〈◊〉 Trav'llers have you know Authoritie 〈◊〉 Fame and thee as who dares doubt speak true â—o mortal Wight cou'd ever him out do â—o wandring Christian No nor wandring Jew â—esputius Madoc Cortes Captain Smith â—ithgow or whom Achates travel'd with â—hoever round the Earths vast Circle ran â—oryat or Cabot Hanno or Magellan â—y Horse or Foot or Ship how e're they 've gone â—hether Dutch Vander or Castilian Don â—one sure none over-went thee yet Friend John And see how on the Black'nd shore attends â—hy looseing Bark a shole of weeping Friends Weeping or what 's far worse the sad surprize And Grief for thy Departure froze their Eyes He that can cry or roar finds some relief But nothing kills like the dry silent grief But who can tell the mutual Sighs and Tears Husbandly manly Groans and gentle Wifely Fears Twixt thee and Iris at that fatal Tide Which did thâ— Knot of Heaven it self divide Oh! that I were an Husband for an hour â—or who can else describe Loves mighty power How sweet his Moments flow how free from strife When blest like thee Evander in a Wife But yet if dearer still Friends still must part They go but leave behind each others Heart Noâ— all the Love that Rambling cou'd inspire Not all his vigorous warmth and youthful Fire Couâ—d thaw Evander's Soul when she was gone How shou'd the Wax but freez without the Sun So Orpheus when his Lady downward fell When his sweet Spouse was left behind not well So screecht and on his Harp he play'd by turns So Orpheus then so now Evander mourns Now Neptune's foaming surges rave and boil While thou great Friend forsak'st our greater Isle Here may it stand just in the self-same place Here may it stand ' till thou hast run thy race With Blessings you forsake't althô it be Ungrateful Isle unkind untrue to thee A Place there is where vast Sea-monsters keep In the blew Bosom of the dreadful Deep Where watry Waves and boisterous Billows fight 'Till they almost strike fire in a Tempestuous Night Where surly Nereus sâ—owls and Neptune frowns In Sailors English and plain Prose The Downs Here did the Furies and the Fates combine To ruine all our Hopes dear Friend and thine For hadst thou perisht there without strange Grace America had never seen thy Face Now Tempests terrible around thee roll And wou'd have daunted any's but thy Soul The boisâ—erous surges toss thy Bark on high And with another Argo mawl the Skye Eternal Rambler whither art thou driven Since Earth's not wide enough thou 'lt travel Heaven â—f thou below so many Lands explore Sure thou 'lt above discover many more Secrets to all but one unknown before Survey'd at first by Mahomet on the back Of his good trusty Palfrey Alborack And when Dear Friend so near to bliss you be Remember Iris and Remember me Some hope Their earthly Learning they in Heav'n shall share But sure Friendship and Love will â—nter there But ah thou empty teazing Name Farewel That charms the Ship and down it sinks to Hell And wilt thou then thy third last Ramble make To the dark confines of the Stygean Lake Ben't Earth and Heaven enough that thou must go To view the Kingdoms of the World below Both of thy Pockets and thy self take care For sholes of Booksellers will scrape
Imperial Crown Here I observe the Lady Flora to cloath our Grandam Earth with a new Livery diaper'd with pleasant Flowers and chequer'd with delightful Objects there the pretty Songsters of the Spring with their various Musick seem to welcom me as I pass along the Earth putteth forth her Primroses and pretty Dayses to behold me the Air blows with gentle Zephyres to refresh me here I find such pleasure with a Gusto relevante that I could bid adieu to Alcinous Adonis and Lucullus Gardens and would not envy the Thessalians for their Tempe If I were Epicurus the Master of Pleasures I should wish to be all Nose to smell or else all Eyes to delight my sight If I lye under the protection of Heaven a poor Cottage for retreat is more worth than the most magnificent Place Here I can enjoy the riches of content in the midst of an honest poverty here undisturbed sleeps and undissembled joys do dwell here I spend my days without cares and my nights without groans my innocency is my security and protection Here are no Beds of State no Garments of Pearl or Embroidery no materials for luxury and excess the Heavens are my Canopy and the glories of them my Spectacle the motion of the Orbs the courses of the Stars and the wonderful order of Providence are my contemplation My Grotta is safe though narrow no Porter at the door nor any business for Fortune for she hath nothing to do where she hath nothing to look after Here I am delivered from the tumults of the World free from the drudgery of business which makes us troublesom to others and unquiet to our selves for the end of one appetite or design is the beginning of another I value Epicurus's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 live closely beyond a Diadem and must say with Crates That Men know not how much a Wallet and security of Mind is worth A Beggar may be as magnanimous as a King for what can be greater or braverthan for a poor Man to live in contempt of the World This is the Way to Heaven which Nature hath chalked out and its both secure and pleasant there needs no train of Servants no pomp or equipage to make good our passage no money or letters of credit for expences upon the voyage but the graces of an honest mind will secure us upon the way and make us happy at our journies end Similis Captain of the Guard to Adrian the Emperor having passed a most toilsom life retired himself and lived privately in the Country for seven years acknowledging that he had lived only seven years and caused on his Monument to be engraven Hic jacet Similis cujus aetas multorum annorum fuit ipse septem duntaxat annos vixit You perhaps Readers have more Friends at Court than Kainophilus has a larger Train a fairer Estate and more illustrious Title but what do I care to be out-done by Men in some cases so long as Fortune is overcome by me in all Zeno hearing Theophrastus commended above any of the Philosophers for his number of Scholars It 's true said Zeno his Quire is larger than mine but mine hath the sweeter Voices so others may have more Lordships ample Possessions and larger Territories but I have the sweetest life because more retired Nothing comes amiss to me but all things succeed to my very wish there is here no wrangling with Fortune no being out of humour for Accidents whatsoever befalls me it 's God's pleasure and it 's my duty to bear it In this state I feel no want I am abundantly pleased with what I have and what I have not I do not regard so that every thing is great because it is sufficient What is all the Glory and Grandeur of the World or the great Territories in it to that happiness which I do now possess and enjoy The whole compass of the Earth to me seems but a Point and yet Men will be dividing into Kingdoms and Dominions King Philip receiving a fall in a place of wrestling when he turned himself in rising and saw the print of his Body in the Dust Good God said he what a small portion of Earth hath Nature assigned us and yet we covet the whole World For a Man to spend his life in pursuit of a Title that serves only when he dies to furnish out an Epitaph is below a wise Man's business To Seneca the whole compass of the Earth seem'd but a Point and all the greatness thereof only matter of sport If you look upon the brave Palaces renowned Cities large Kingdoms you may compare them to those little Houses of Sand or Dirt made by Children for their Entertainment which Men stand by and laugh at How ridiculous then are the Titles as well as the Contests of Mortals Such a Prince must not pass such a River nor another Prince those Mountains and why do not the very Pâ—smires canton out their Posts and Jurisdictions too For what does the bustle of Troops and Armies amount too more than the business of a swarm of Ants upon a Mole-hill Alas where is Xerxes's Army now Can they now walk in Battle array or thunder about their Tombs Walking 'tother day through Fleet-street I will have the Wall cry'd one Yea said I take the House too if you can agree with the Landlord I confess I had a months mind to draw but upon kinder thoughts to my self and out of meer compassion to a tender Carcass I began to remember that Honour would not fetch me to life again Alas Reader I would not be kill'd to be Lord Mayor of the City of London and that the punctilio's of Birth were not worth a Duel I therefore recommended the Safety of my Body to the Protection of my Feet and fairly left Mr. Huff to enjoy his humour And to speak the truth the Scene of all the most important Actions here below where both at Sea and Land we tug and scuffle for Dominion and Wealth is but a very Trifle My good Friend the King of France enquiring where Holland was in the Map was desired to remove his Thumb that hid it which made him break forth into wonder at its narrow extent and large bustle it kept in the World Holland is scarce a Thumb's breadth and the Universe little more then what a poor Ambition is it to be the Greatest Man in a City What 's a City to a Shire What a Shire to the whole Island What this Island to the Continent of Europe What Europe to the whole Earth What that Earth to a Star the least of which if I may be believed is Eighteen times bigger than it What that Star to Heaven and that to the Heaven ofâ— Heavens And so by a Retrogradation how little how nothing is the poor Glory of the Greatest Monarch For within the hollow Crown that rouuds the mortal Temples of a King Death keeps his Court and there the Antique sits scoffing his State and grinning at his Pomp allowing
upon such another She was the pattern of Wives Queen of Mothers best of Friends and indeed as my Father used to say truly of her had all the Virtues of her Sex in her little Finger what had she then think ye all her Body over To say more than all she was a very Iris only a few years older and well worthy to be the Mother of Evander were he but as worthy to be her Son Nay but she shan't think to scape without some Poetry on her Death No all my Relations shall know what 't is to have a Poet kin to ' em She did she did I saw her mount the Skye And with new Whiteness paint the Galaxy Heaven her methought with all its Eyes did view And yet acknow'edg'd all its Eyes too few Methought I saw in crouds bless'd Spirits meet And with loud Welcomes her arrival greet Which cou'd they grieve had gone with grief away To see a Soul more white more pure than thâ—y Earth was unworthy such a prize as this Only a while Heaven let us share the bliss c. There are a great many more of 'em but I don't love to gorge the Reader whom I rather chuse always to leave with a Relish for his next Meal I 'll only borrow his Patience and a Friends Wit for an Epitaph and then let her rest 'till she and I wake together Here lies Don Evander's Mother Death e're thou kill'â—t such another Fair and good and wise as she Time shall throw a Dart at thee In the last Chapter I had clean forgot to give you the History of the second Globe which having such a direct aspect on the Body of all the following Relation and the Epitome of my Life ought by no means to be omitted There you may see if you 'll take the pains but to turn over to the Frontispiece my old Crone of a Nurse ay and such a Nurse as I 'd not envy Iupiter his she-goat who suckled him in a kind of Rapture and Prophecy presenting the Furniture of my future Life the Tools I was to set up with in the universal Trade of Rambling a Hobby Horse which you 'll see will one of these days cast his Tail and have four Leggs start out in the room on 't A pair of little Boots yet a great deal too big for my little Leggs A Staff for sometimes I paid it on Ten-toes tho' that has a stronger twang of Sancho than his Master and is directly against the most sacred Rules of Knight Errantry and never to be done unless in a Pilgrimage or on a Vow never more to bestride a Horse agen 'till that of the flaming Gyant Sir Fundermundando's won in Mortal Battel as you may read at large in Don Bellianis of Greece or the seven Champions But I don't well understand what comes after there seems a little malicious sting i' the Tail on 't A Sword too it may be Why does he think I 'll Ramble without a Sword or does he make a may be on 't whether I shall ever have one of my own Now dare I venture a shoulder of Mutton to a penny Commons that 't was some Shcollard or other writ these Verses who finding at the University they had but one Sword belonging to one Colledge and a pair of Boots between three more which they ride out with by turns while the other stay at home in their own defence concluded strait that things went at the same rate all the World over No Sir Author as pert as you are I tell you I have a Sword of my own and that those may know too who know me or you either Sir I 'll assure ye Sir for my Friends Cause is my own and 't is at your Service Sir whenever you please to make use of it Being thus provided and equipp'd Cap-a-pe in a Travellers Garb Pen and Ink i' one Pocket and Bread and Cheese i' t'other not in specie No Heroes don't use to be mean but in a parcel of Gray-Groats and Edward Shillings ty'd up i' the corner of my Handkerchief my Daddy and I turn'd one side upon Graffham the place of my Birth and away we troopt to another where we had more business but I war'nt ye I have Wit enough to keep all close and not let you know what 't was this however I care not if I tell you that the very hopes of Rambling the Prospect of seeing a new Part of the World or indeed a New World to me striking upon the strings of my Soul before wound to the same pitch made most charming Musick and had you seen then the young Evander who now he sets up for Rambling indeed does a new thing and gets a Horse-back is resolv'd to have a New Name too and henceforth when he thinks fit be call'd KAINOPHILVS had you but seen what a brisk Air he then put on how lively and rosie he lookt how sweet and how charming well but I say no more being I say about to leave my beloved Graffham I can't but give you and Posterity some account of it as my famous Predecessor Coriat did of Odcomb which indeed does strangely agree with the Place of my Nativity But the Excellencies of it being too large to be contain'd in a corner or crowded up in a piece of a Chapter they shall have a whole one to themselves that immediately following CHAP. IV. The Description of The fine Town of Graffham the best i' the Shire on 't And a famous Town 't is if you ever did hear on 't FRom henceforward Reader don't expect I shou'd give every distinct Ramble a distinct Chapter for truly I can't afford it any longer for the Chapters being heavy things and the Rambles brisk little airy Creatures the last run away so fast and scamper about at such a mad rate that the first do what they can can't keep pace with 'em being besides a great many one still begetting another and running all different ways from one another O but Graffham my dear Graffham I han't forgot thee No sooner shall my Toes forget the use of Rambling my Fingers of Writing or my Teeth of eating I am resolv'd to write thy Memoirs with all the accuracy possible both for thy sake and my own First and mainly indeed that after Ages may know where I was born and what place was first so happy to claim my Nativity nor leave Graffham Aston Chessham London Boston Colâ—n Amsterdam and half a hundred Places more a quarreling for me to fifty Generations hence as the Cities of Greece do for Homer Graffham was the Place but what was this Graffham I 'll tell you if you have Patience but have a Care of Envy The least I can say in its Praise is this If wholsome Air Earth Woods and pleasant Springs Are Elements whereby a Town is grac'd If strong and stately Bowers Contentment brings Such is the Town of Graffham and so plac'd There Nature Art Art Nature hath embrac'd Without within below aloft
liv'd in Loudon a Sect of persons pretending to perfection and perpetual Virginity all their Love being Angelick without the least mixture of Matter tho betwixt different Sexes every one having their particular Friend Thus things continu'd for some Months they admiring their own Purity and Sanctity above all Mankind when behold unluckily several of the Virgins began to burnish and thrive amain and at the usual time to the amazement of all the Society this their pure Friendsh sent several living Babes into the World After which they were forc'd to drop their Principles and be content with matrimonial Purity instead of that virginal one to which they at first pretended Love is the Greensickness in men it makes 'em stark mad for Toys and Trifles as Women are for Playster and Oatmeal Now you know what Love is I 'll tell you what 't was I lov'd She was indeed a Non-parel a She-Phoenix a half-Iris a Match for Evander Admir'd Mrs. Rachel thou Paragon of Beauty and Virtue Roses Stars â—allys Pinks Rubies Pearls and Violets nay more to make use of Similies at that time nearer to the purpose and more upon my Heart Rost-beef Mine'd-pies Gammon of Bacon Bottl'd-ale Foot-ball and Cricket-play For thy dear sake I cou'd neither eat Rost-beef mawl Minc'd-pies guzzle Plumb-porridge take the Ball a Hand-kick as high as Bow-steeple Balcony nor play at Cricket any more than a Trap-stick I lookt like a Mome a meer Ninny as I may say in Modesty and dared not so much as squint in the â—lasses as I went by the Cabinet-makers in Cheapside lest I shou'd discover a pair of Ears starting out of my Head two or three handfuls beyond the Standard and then out of indignation fall a breaking the Glasses and have ten pounds to pay for my Afternoons Ramble The truth is most of her Rubies and Pearls were those of her Teeth and Lips and she wore more sparkling Diamonds in her Eyes than either on her Fingers or in her Cabinet Her Estate I must confess was somewhat like a Mole-hill on the Globe of the Earth like Great Brittain in the Map when the Grand-Signior clapt his Thumb upon 't or all that Grecian's vast Estate and spacious Demeans which fill'd not so much as one single Line in the Description of the Globe In a word had she much or had she little I admir'd her I ador'd her I rav'd stamp'd storm'd fretted fumed foamed and wanted nothing but a Chain a Grate and a Truss of Straw to have made me as mad as any in Bedlam Ah! thought I with my self wou'd this dear Creature but love me I shou'd be as good a man as my Master a happier person than King Caesar and as magnificent as Heliogabalus no I shou'd never cease loving her or love her less 't is impossible had I her I shou'd not be content tho I went a begging with a wooden Dish and Leg and not feast tho I eat nothing but Sparibles and Pebble-stones Then wou'd I fall a rhyming for that 's the infallible Token of a true Stanch Fallback-fall-edge-Lover I robb'd all Sternhold and Hopkins of their Flowers and made Posies like any Firz-bushes not for their roughness but sweetness and largeness some of which here follow O Rachel dear attend and hear The words that I do say My plaints eke heed so mayst thou speed For ever and for ay My Heart is broke by Love's fell stroke My head also likewise I will maintain that I am slain By thy dead-doing Eyes Then put thy fist if that thou list Out of thy poke so kind And when I 'm dead pull off my Head Or I will look thee blind Now you steer and snicker Mr. Reader because to show the Sweepingness of my Genius I condescend to this humble sort of Poetry I 'll have you to know this was one of my first Essays but like one truly inspir'd as if I had undoubtedly wash'd my Lips in the Caballine Fount I immediately mounted to the very top of Parnassus grew a meer Adept in a twinkling and was most intimately acquainted with all the Sylphs and Gnomes call'd by the Ancients Nymphs and Demi-gods and Muses who taught me the true galloping Pindarick in which as if Pindars Soul had crept into Evander not Horace he thus fell a courting his Mistress tho in their way forgetting what he 's about rambles to a Tale of a Cock and a Bull and scarce says one word of her In imitation of Horace Book 2. Ode 20. NON usitatâ nec temui ferar Penna No Sternholds or Hopkinsian strain My buskin'd Muse Henceforth will use We such low thoughts disdain Biformis per liquidum aethera Vates A Bookseller and Poet too Nor Earth nor Heaven such wonders saw before Nor shall do more Tho strange 't is true Neque in terris morabor Longius invidiaque major Vrbes relinquam What shall I longer stay below Vngrateful London what wilt thou prepare What offers to detain me there If that e'nt fair hang fair E're I from thee and Envy go Non ego pauperum Sanguis parentum non ego quem vocas Dilecte Mecenas Obibo Nec Stygiâ cohibebor undâ Mistake me not I 'm now no more That Rambling poor Foot-post I was before Not that dark Wight that nameless Man His Father call'd dear John with his dear Nan Nor think I 'll still keep trotting here To Paul's Church-yard or th' Auctioneer Nor will I wade the Kennels thro' And spoil new Hose and handsom Shoe Jamjam residunt cruribus asperae Pelles album mutor in alitem Superne nascunturque leves Per digitos humerosque Plumae Tentoes farewel I 'm chang'd into a Fowl Some call a Goose but most an Owl I feel I rising feel from Rump to Crown My harsh black Hair melt to soft snowy Down And I have Goose-Quils of my own Then I rambled from Horace My Body a pick-pack on my Soul Rambles to view the spangl'd Pole Rambles a-round to search my Dear Vnwearied Walks from Sphere to Sphere Knocks at each door and asks Is Rachel here With Legs for Oars th' aetherial Waves I plough My Wings spread wide the Sails unfurl'd Now now just now I scamper away through the Fields of the Air to the End of the World There 's Flame there 's Salt Air and Spirits and all the four Elements together Show me such another Translation Application Improvement and all that and I 'll sell you my Skull to make a Close-stool of and use it as the King of the Lombards did for a Cawdle-Cup after you have done with'â— And then for Prose-Love I believe I went as far as any Man stabbing dying groaning hanging I made nothing of 't was my daily Employment and Recreation and I cou'd at last eat Knives or Rats bane as fast as a Jugler I grew careless toward any thing else I could neither see hear taste smell nor understand any thing in the world but what related to my charming Rachelia as I
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Containing a further Account OF THE JUVENILE RAMBLES OF DON KAINOPHILUS With his first Project of Girdling the World c. The whole WORK intermixt with Essays Historical Moral and Divine This Ramble is my Son Randolph LONDON Printed for Richard Newcome 1691. Price Bound 1 s. 6 d. ADVERTISEMENTS 1. THere is just now published The Present State of 〈◊〉 Or The Historical and Political Mercury giving an Account of all the Publick and Private Occurrences that are most considerable in every Court for the Month of November 1690. Sold at the Ravâ—n in the Pouâ—trâ—y where are to be had every Month to this time beginning from Iuly 1690. 2. A Voyage Round the World or a Pocket Library Vol. II. containing the rare Adventures of Don Kaiâ—â—philus during his Seven years ' Prenticeship The whole work intermixt with Instructions for the management of a 〈…〉 As â—lso with particular â—eâ—arks on the 〈…〉 Book-sellers Authors and Poets in the City of London Price bound 1 s. 6 d. 3. The Wonders of Free-Grace Or A Compleâ—t History of all the Remarkable Penitents that have been Executed at Tyburn and elsewhere for these last Thirty years containing Bishop Atherton's Life and Death who was Executed â—for B ry Bringhurft's Liâ—e and Death Bottler's Life and Death 〈…〉 Life and Death 〈…〉 's Life and Death Clark her Life and Death Evans her Life and Death Parson Foulk's Life and Death Hobry her Life and Death Holland's Life and Death Kirk's Life and Death Marketman's Life and Death Morgan's Penitent Death Pâ—rker's Life
Of what Age is the Mogul What 's become of Teckely How fares all the Englishmen in those Parts Where lyes Prince Waldeck's Forces Of what Colour is the Great Cham's Beard What Tydings of Tyrconnel And such a Tempest of Inquisition that it almost shakes my patience in pieces To â—ase my self of all which I am forc'd to set Pen to Paper and let the several Volumes of my Rambles talk whilst I take my ease with silence which though they prove like a pratling Gossâ—p full of many words to small purpose yet this I 'll fay for this Third Volume That it is my Son Then shou'd I not be an hard-hearted Brute of a Father if I could be so cruel as to send him into the wide World without speaking so much as one good word for him and contains A Continuation of several rare Adventures relating to my Seven Years Prenticeship Philaret's Friendship A Countey-Life and my Project of Girdling the World c. able to make you smile away an hour or two under the greatest pressures either of Body or Mind and will as the learned S d has it Cure every curable Disease Now if this Volume alone will do such Wonders what think ye will the whole Work perform when finisht secing `twill contain A Little Library Or Compleat Help to Discourse upon all Occasions By the help whereof you may cross Rivers without Boat or Bridge boundless Seas without Ships and climb up Mountains without pains and go down without danger â—econcile the Future and the Present Tense see Asia in England Travel the Holy-Land and go to the Holy War with Mr. Fuller see the brave Baker defending Derryâ— the valiant Grafton beating the Irish the Electoral Princes storming Mentz and Bonn see the Grand Signior in the Seraglio Infallibility in his Grandeur and C bussing his Toe and with the wandring Knight Sir Francis Drake put a Girdle round the World On which daring Advenâ—ureâ— Wit thus pleasantly deâ—â—ants Drake who th`encompass'd Earth so fully knew And whom at once both Poles of Heaven did view Shou'd Men foget thee Sol câ—uld not forbear To Chronscle his Fellow-Traveller Would you see the Wars and Actions of the Roman Emperors you may here see them trend the Singe again with less cost and hazard than at first You may by the study of these Rambles live in all Ages see Adam in Eden sayl with Noah in the Ark sit and consâ—lt with Julius Caesar converse with Sâ—necâ— Plutarch and Horace conferr with all the wise Phâ—losophers go to School at Athens and with a free access hear all Disputes Thus Friend you see I make bold to imitate one Alexander of Greece who still as he went Dragooning about the World de scribed the Wandrings and as it were the Tom Coriatilm of his Expeditions But what need I go so far as Macedonia for a Pattern seeing we have so many Precedents at home One tells us in Octavo That he has been in Turkey another That he has been at Rome a third that he has bin in France And doâ—â—tless you my Friend will e`re long be telling the World 〈◊〉 Folio of your Travels to Hambrough Veâ—ice Japan and Greenland When a Fellew as the Wallagrophist further observes in his Britton delcrib`d hath a Maggoâ— in his Fate or a Breeze in his Tail that he cannot fix long in a place Or perhaps when he hath entituled himself by some Misdemeanors either to the Pillory or Gibbet to disinherit himself of his deserved right he â—â—irts into Holland or is transported into some Foreign Countrey where conversing a little while he thrusts into the World The History of his Adventures he varnisheth over his Banishment with the name of Travel and stiles that his Recreation which was indeed his Punishment and so dignifies a Ramble by the name of a Journey He tells what Wonderments have surprized him what fragments of Antiquity have amazed him what Structures have ravisht him what Hills have tired him In a word he is big with Descriptions and obliges you with the Narrative of all his Observations and Notices Seeâ—g every one almost that hath but untruâ—sâ—d in a Foreign Countrey will have his Voyage recorded and every Letter-Carrier beyond Sea would be thought a Drake or a Candish I thought with my self why may not I have the liberty of relating my Rambles and of communicating my Observations to Mankind It is sâ—id that Onme tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci If that be not done here yet it is an Essay of that kind being a mixture wherein with great variety things highly and daily useful aâ—e interwoven with delghtful Observations Now Friend if you by reaping in few Minutes the fruits of many Hours Travel shall receive any content I shall not only be satisfied for this but encouraged for a Fourth Volume and for ever to remain Your obliged Friend and Fellow-Traveller KAINOPHILVS A VOYAGE Round the World OR A Pocket-Library VOL. III. CHAP. I. Being a Continuation of several rare Adventures relating to ' Vander's Prenticeship impossible to be left out But first to the purpose Here Page bring me a Brimmer So so now I can write Rambles agen I 'M here to tell the Reader That the greedy World being in Post haste for the Second Volume of my Life I had not time to finish the Adventures of my Seven Years Prenticeship I shall therefore add what was wanting upon that Subject in this Third Volume as also several other things impossible to be left out and so reserve my Rambles a Wiving and the other things promised in the last Volume for the Subâ—ect Matter of another Book The continued History of my Life needs no preambulatory Discourses to render it Charming For 't is supposed the French Dutch Italians and in a word almost all Nations will welcome me into their Language The nicest Criticks allow me to be a pleasant Fellow and judge my Adventures may be read with as much Edification as my Countrey mens Nobs or the celebrated Dreamer of Bedford I am no such Fool to fight with a Windmill or take a Flock of Sheep for a mighty Army All my Conflicts in Youth were with my hard Fortune against which it becomes every wise Man to combat If a Man wants diversion and be out of humour he need only read my Dialogues with Philaret and Iris to put him into a fit of laughter But whither do I Ramble from my Subject of ' Prenticeship But Reader I hope you 'll exâ—use it in me seeing when at any time I go out of my way 't is rather upon the account of License than Over-sight For as I told you at first my Subject is Rambling and therefore is it that I suffer the least sudden Thought or extravagant Fancy to lead me ten twenty nay sometimes â—n hundred Pages out of my way And to confess the truth I have got such a trick of making Digressions that I find it is hardly possible for me to
In my poor House though 't is a homely Cell And that without a Sigh or golden Wish I can look on my Beechen Bowl and Dish Methinks then in my heart such Riches be That Persian Kings aere Slaves compar'd with me And prithee Boy tell me Did not beggarly Crates shew a braver Spirit when he danc't and laught in his Thread-bare Coat and his Wallet at his back which was all his Wealth than Alexander when he wept because there were no more Worlds to conquer He contemn'd what this other did cry for What was great Caesar also but the same A crack-brain'd Huff that set the World in flame Who Lord of the whole Globe yet not content Lack'd Elbow-room and seem'd too closely pent What madness was 't that born to a fair Throne Where he might Rule with Justice and Renown Like a wild Robber he should chuse to roam A pitied Wretch with neither house nor home No Man can be Poor that has enough nor Rich that covets more than he has Content is all we aim at with our Store And having that with Little what needs more Alexander after all his Conquests complain'd that he wanted more Worlds He desired something more even when he had gotten all Whether is it better to have much or enrugh He that has much desires more which shews that he has not yet enough but he that has enough is at rest The richest Man that ever liv'd is poor in my opinion but he that keeps himself to the stint of Nature nor does neither feel Poverty nor fear it Nay even in Poverty it self there are some things superfluous Those which the World calls Happy that felicity is a small splendor that dazles the Eyes of the Vulgar but our rich Man is glorious and happy Within there 's no Ambition in Hunger or Thirst. Let there be Food and no matter for the Table the Dish and the Servants 'T is not for us to say this is not handsom that 's common t'other offends my Eye Nature provides for health not delicacy When the Trumpet sounds a Charge the poor Man knows that he 's not aim'd at when they cry out Fire Fire his Body is all he has to look after If he be to take a Journey there 's no blocking up of Streets and thronging of Passages for a parting Complement No Man finds Poverty a trouble to him but he that thinks it so and he that thinks it so makes it so He that is not content in Poverty would not be so neither in Plenty for the fault is not in the Thing but the Mind if that be sickly remove him from a Kennel to a Palace he 's at the same pass If there were nothing else in Poverty but the certain knowledge of our Friends it were yet a most desirable Blessing when every Man leaves us but those that love us In a word Let the Mind be great and glorious and all other things are despicable in comparison the future is uncertain and I had rather beg of my self not to desire any thing than of Fortune to bestow it As soon as she had ended her pretty Chat she drops me two or three Curtsies as low as the ground as a Token of Farewell which I soon repay'd with as many Bows as I thought so vertuous a Mind had a right in any Habit to exact And on I rambled agen admiring still at these loving Turâ—â—s whenever they came in my thoughts in hopes that some Bâ—rn or Inchanted Castle would present it self to my sight And here kind Reader stand and admire at the Good-luck of a Pennyless Rambler For behold no sooner had the Sun â—â—llaby'd the Day but I espied about a Mile off a happy Prospect of glimmering Thatch which the nearer I approacht the more visibly it appeared in the shape of a House It was call'd by way of Irony a Castle whose Governor was a decayed Taylor This Cross-legg'd Knight was as I afterwards hear'd â—mble of Foot though a Dwarf in bulk so that Nine such might well Club to the Elementing of a MAN When I came up to his House peeping in at the Windows I beheld a whole Company of Spanish Pike-men alias Pediculaâ—â—n Limb-dressers sitting in rank and file upon a long Table exercising their Small-Arms to the endangering of the life of many a â—ix-footed Animal Then turning my Eyes towards the Cupboard where methoughts I could with a million of thanks have squeezed in my â—aded Corpse for a nap or two I beheld the Master and Mistress of these Shreds of Humanity with a whole Library of their little selves printed in several Volumes tripping up a Ladder to the Appartments of their several Cabbins Seeing such a brood of Cormorants at my first look I thought it would be to no purpose to beg for a Lodging here I therefore now purely intrusted my Condition to the Protection of Heaven And stay'd not here although mp Toes were sore But made a shiâ—t to Ramble two Miles more To Wendover a Hedge doth there inclose Grounds on the right-hand there I did repose There with my mother-Mother-Earth I thought it fit To lodge and yet no Incest did commit My Bed was sweetned with good wholsom Airs And being weary I went up no Stairs Heav'n was the Roof that canopy'd my Head The Clouds my Curtaiâ— and the Earth my Bed The Moon my Torch the Stars my Candle-light The Grass the Cap that bound my Head this night Tâ—us in great Pomp I laid me down to sleep Whilst that the Owls my Life-guard were to keep My drousie Ears â—rom CRYES of bleating Sheep Here my Bedfellows and Companions were My Staff one Coat a Bull four Cows two Steer But yet for all this most confused Rout We had no Bed-sticks yet we fell not out Thus NATVRE lik an Aucient Free Upholster Did furnish me with Bedstead Bed and Bolster And the wide Skies for which high Heaven be thanked Allow'd me a large Covering and BLANKET The Lark also when it was time for waking Did sing me up and all my ready making Was gaping stretching and a little shaking And finding my Host this Night both free and kind I like a True-Man left my Sheets behind But now my Muse her self craves some repose And while she sleeps I 'll spout a little Prose No sooner had Day 's wakeful Porter stept o're the Eastern Threshold to bring the welcom News of approaching Day but up I started from my Grassy-Bed and after a shrug or two away I rambled again towards my Father's House and by that time I got as far as Halton my last Night's Supper which was as much as nothing began to rise in my Thoughts upon which I began a second time to address my self to the Brambles for relief to my barking Stomach And having treated my Guts with a plentiful Breakfast of Hips and Haws on I went contemplating the Summer's pride and the Earth's bravery and from them both concluded the great felicity of a Country-life as
just what it stands upon only perhaps it may be home-stall'd with as much ground as may hold a Stye for the Pig and a â—oost for the Pullen This Divine Cottage is situated some Leagues from the Temple so that the Holy Man with â—rab-Tree Truncheon sets out with the Sun and â—tretcheth his Legs with a good handsom walk before he arrives to Pulpet to stâ—etch his Lungs and wears out much of his Soles before he can teach his Stall to mend their Souls Their Church is a Thatcht Tabernacle which being steepled as it were with a Lover-hole seems to be really that what the Temple resembled when prophan'd by the Iews I mean rather the Picture of a Pidgeon-house than a holy Sanctuary It was I perceived for our Laâ—dlord carried Philaret and Iâ—on purpose to see it Wainscoted towards the East with little Desks like Pounds where Levite imprison'd for about half an hour fodders the poor gazing Dunces with some melancholy Tear-fetching Story about a Grim Fellow call'd Death who ambles Folks on his back into another World Their Recreations are various In the whity-brown Evening or in the Twilight they ruâ— hooling about their Common with Kites at their heels certain Comets of Paper which they towâ— along with a tall string and make themselves merry with the length of their Tails which are a large Series of jagg'd Tossels rag'd with a Candle as with the twinkling of a Star Happy is the Man amoug them that can most descreetly manage this Artificial Planet and he is presently dub'd the very Phaeton of their Country that can most swiftly career it with this little lanthorn'd Phebus The Scrubs want Candle on Earth and yet they must needs be sticking up Lights in the Socket of Heaven there 's scarce half a pound in the whole Lordship either to scare away darkness or to work by and yet these Raskals forsooth will be studding the Skie with Luminaries to play by As for true and real Hunting there is no such thing among them only they have as it were the Picture and some kind of resemblance of that Pastime for their Principality affording them but few Hares they course a Lock of Hay in lieu thereof and halloo the Puss of a good nimble wisp The whim of it is this when they have a mind to refresh themselves with somewhat that is a kin to or with an Idea of Hunting they make diligent search for a Furlong or two of smooth and champion ground which at last being found they purchase a Bundle of the swiftest Hay this they expose to the Fans of Aeolus which being presently started by force of puff it souds away and the Dogs pursue it with mighty speed In rainy Weather they have also their In-door â—ivertisements as well as other Nations such 〈◊〉 Question and Command Rump-pressing Hod-Cockles Chap-smutting Snap-applt and the like Some are cunning at the Cockall not so much for picking off the meat though they are good 〈◊〉 that too as at throwing it with accuracy and chequering the Sport with variety of Tumble As far as we could perceive they love Holy-day Fingers and care not much for encumbring them with that Inconventency call'd Work We could not in all our Rambles about this Town wind very many Feasts among them the shabbiness of their Soil being not able to nourish and pamper Luxury so that a Cook unless he exercise on himself and dress his own Fingers he is immediately starv'd here for want of an Employment They make some little Invitations perhaps to a Sheeps-head or so and will junket with Hop-tops with brisk alacrity Such plain mean and as I may say Burrough Food was even their Festival Entertainments but as for any Embroider'd and as it were Metropolitan Mess such as Plumb-porridge and Veâ—ison Pasty we never so much as heard of them in their Territories Their Mart for Law is a Corporation Town call'd Ailsbury which Philaret and I visited afterwards as you 'l hear auon where there is a Court of Judicature deckt with a Judge Counsellors Attorneys Sollicitors and other Furniture which embellish the Law Hither they trudge for Decision of Cases and here Red-Coat Integrity dispenses Equity Most of their Indictments are generally the Tragical effects of some dismal Counter-scuffle where a Bloody Nose and a broken ' Shin is ample matter for the Commencement of a Suit for they being of a fiery Temper sometimes choler is kindled by an Antiperistasis with a Pot of of Ale and then they fall to biting and scratching as hard as they can drive and the wounds of this Caterwauling and Bickering affords stuff for an Action the next day which being once got into the Pounces of a Ailsbury Attorney is dandled into a Business of no small Aggravation Oh! How these Pettifoggers will hugg a Buffeting and improve a Squabble They are the very Bellows of Contention and will soon blow a Spark into a great Combustion They are a kind of Tinkers in the Law who usually make holes on Purpose that they may mend them nay somtimes they will play at Loggerhead themselves to set others together by the Ears and so as if fighting was contagious will infect the silly Varlets into Quarrels and Blows One marching along the Streets advanc'd the Scolding of two Women into an huge Tumult as Duels into great Wars and made the snarling of two Dogs thrive into an Action and the fighting of two Mastiffs to end in the Court of the Common-Pleas But perhaps the Spoils from the Skirmishes of such Clients are as Pillage from a Scotch Army These are some of the choicest Observations Philaret and I made during our stay at Cholsbury we might easily have added more the whole Town indeed being but one grand Remark but being pretty well satisfied with what we had seen already we both resolved to prosecute our Ramble But if it should be our chance to have our Lot to set our Feet on that Soil a second time we shall venture to present another Show of it for 't is pity such a rare Sight as Cholsbury should want a Trumpet nay and a Fool too to proclaim and expose it to the World After we had cramm'd our Budget with these few Notices longing now for change of Air we bid aduieu to our Host and fairly troop'd out of the Town next way our Fancy led us and soon came in the Fields in one of which there were three different Paths and we having as yet form'd no Design but only pure Ramble took the old Adage for our Guide Medio tutissimus ibis The middle Path brought us into a fair Meadow which we had no sooner entered but our Ears were arrested by a Voice far surpassing the utmost flight of Panegyrick For tho it was not governed with Skill yet it did so repay the Defect of it with its native Sweetness that Art was absent without being miss'd and I could not but have some Curiosity to see who was the Possessor of so much
acquaint anceâ— there And who dares think this Ramble thy disgrace Since good Aeneas first survey'd the place But 't was the Bough of Gold by which he fell Gold which now opens Heaven as then it open'd Hell 'T is true for 't was a Poet writ his Life And call'd him honest too and said he lov'd his Wife Come up for shame sure thou so long dost stay Thou call'st at Purgatory by the way Where for some little Lye in way of Trade There 's an Embargo on thy Vessel laid He hears He hears the shortest cut he came For see the Mast peeps up at Amsterdam The Keys with crouds of Jews and Dutch-men swell And all together ask What News from Hell Ah boorish Land our Rambler thou hast crost And by his Absence who knows what thou 'st lost Fixt on thy unfixt shores he might have deign'd to stand Nor needed Rambling from a Rambling Land He 's gone He 's gone all thy entreaties fail Nor can thy Tears nor can thy Pray'rs prevail To Collen next and the three Kings he comes To kiss their Hands or Arms or Nails or Thumbs These Eastern Monarchs ever will be brave For see what vast Serallio's here they have Where Urs'la reigns with her miraculous aids The Eleven would you think it thousand Maids But Brittain sure was rude and savage then And Maid as Stags from Hunters run from men Thrô Woods thrô Brakes thrô Fields they took their way Nor even for good Company wou'd they stay Nor think Dear Friend I ramble now from you My Subject Rambles and I but pursue And here where all the World invoke the aids Of the three Rambling Kings and Rambling Maids I doubt Evander with the rest did stray And beg a little help as well as they Beg a small Miracle his Letters to convey For in my Dream I saw methought A nimble Virgin spring aloft And with gay expanded Wings Drest in all her Trav'ling Things Riding-hood of Beaten-gold Muff of Cloud to keep out cold On Cowl-staff of a Falling-star I saw him mount and shine from far Like Robin-red-breast claps her Wings Then coughs then crows then thus she sings But what she said I dare not tell Because the World 's an Infidel Forgive Dear Friend this little Extasie Ah! who can be compos'd that thinks of thee Who can Pindaric's lofty flights refuse When thou dost lash the fiery someing Muse I 'le rein her in and try if we can be As grave as sober and as wise as thee Go on and into what e're Country hurld My Muse shall lackey after round the World We 'll chace the All-surrounding Sun about And mend the Maps where Bleau and Janson's out Terra Incognita shall fly before us And all the Savages behind adore us On Hills of Ice as high as Tenariff Wintering we 'll moor our Weather-beaten Skiff Through Nassau's Streights we 'll row unknown of old Aud Nova Zembla in Prose-Authors cold There find the Passages and through 'em trade For sure for common things nor thee nor I were made We'lt cross the back of Jesso if we can And thrid and sound the Streights of Anian And Ramble round and round and round then Ramble like Drake 'till we come home agen L. L. Studient in Oxford THE AUTHORS NAME When Anagramatized is Hid unto None The Explanation LEt other Ramblers hide their Heads in holes And stock Alsatia with still spawning sholes Room for the Man that still his Face has shown Owls love the Night The Sun 's hid unto none What thô the Clouds appear and Winds are huffing What thô the Apollo's Candle wants some snuffing Yet soon in greater splendor he 'l be shown Tho' Veyl'd to some He 's quite hid unto none Can he be said to fly who but retires To warm the Vnder-World with equal Fires Our Sun must to the Antipodes be shown Or else were not indeed Hid unto none Come then bright Sun quick let thy Moments pass And twist thy Glories in a Burning-Glass I say Print it John let thy Works be shown And all will say thy worth's Hid unto none A. Y. Batchelor of Arts. AN EPITAPH Made upon a New Report that DON KAINOPHILUS was not cast away at Sea as was confidently affirmed but was still on his RAMBLES HEre Lyes Iâ—lye for he still stands and goes A Traveller Reader once like thee With Eyes and Nose Ten Fingers and ten Toes And as he is so must thou be In Love up to the Ears He Rambled hence away But O Prophâ—tick Fears E're this Time hundred Years In spite of all our Smiles and Tears He 'l be as high in Clay E. L. Student in Oxford The melodious HUMBLE-BEE to the ingenious and laborious Author of these Mellifluous Rambles A PINDARIC FRom the soft Elisian Groves The stingless Hive of deathless Loves Where rich Hony-Fountains flow And everlasting Roses grow Where amidst the Jessmine Trees With a whisp'ring gentle Breez Zephyr strokes the Velvet Leaves Softly he strokes nor of one sweet bereaves I come drawn by thy Fames melodious sound Which like the Brass-pan Musick rattles all around Above and under ground Buz Buz Buz in thy Ear I will go Like Nakir and Damilcaâ— I 'll whisk about thy Head I 'll Watch thee and Ward thee from Friend and from Foe And fly the Rounds about thy Truckle-bed Nor ask of me Dear Brother Bee Whence all this kindness comes 'T is Sympathie 't is Sympathie In gathering Hony both agree And both pick up whatever sweets we see I with my Trunk and thou with thy laborious Thumbs The MAYOR and ALDERMEN of EUTAXIA A Place lately discovered in the same Latitude with New-Atlantis and Vtopia To the Ingenious Author IF all the World thou girdled hast about Amongst 'em all why Friend were we left out Is 't cause thy Conscience nothing lets thee write But th' Observations of thy proper sight No for had all but these been thrown aside Sure half thy fragrant Flowers had hung their Heads and dy'd Or did the envious Man upon the Ball Neglecting us pretend he had told thee all Had Fame forgot our just Rewards to tell For such as have like Thee deserv'd so well What! not one Syllable of us didst hear Nor of the towring Castle in the Air Nor of the Schools nor of the Stadt-house there Didst thou not hear or didst thou not approve Our wise our natural way of making Love Nor yet 〈◊〉 shall ev'n thy slights prevail We 'll do our Duty thô in thine thou â—ail We 'll dedicate thee in our Vatican And own thy Merit makes thee more than Man An EPITAPH design'd for the Tomb-stone of Don Kainophilus in Tonsa Chancel the Place alotted for his last Ramble HEre Reader weep as if the Case were thine Here Reader lies a second Saladine More than one Shirt 't is true some Mortals have But few or none possess more than one Grave Of all the Earth his rambling Foot-steps prest Whether awake or in his Dreams