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
unrest He has now but just enough to cover o're his breast Weep then his Kindred and his Wife by turns Weep 'till you 've fill'd a hundred thousand Vrns For here another Alexander lies When no more Worlds cou'd see he ramblâ—d here and dyes V. S. Batchelor of Arts. To the READER Instead of the ERRATA The Author hath his Faults the Prinâ—er too All Men whilst here do err and so do You. Introduction D' Ye laugh Mr. Reader why e'ne much good may 't do ye I know what you are going to say as well as if I were i' the Belly of ye but don't think I 'll humour ye so much as to name your Objections for I intend to answer 'em without ever troubling the World with knowing what they are Be it therefore known to all men by these presents that I Don Iohn Hard-name you 'll hear more on 't if you have patience to read further Citizen and c. of London being now arriv'd to the precise 30th Year of my Life that time when the gaities of Fancy being workt off the Iudgment begins to Burnish and a Man comes to years of Discretion if ever he will be so Wandring one Evening thro' a Cypress Grove I won't be positive it might be Hazle but t'other sounds better revolving in my rambling Brain the Varietyes of Human Affairs happen'd i' the Drove of Thoughts that swarm'd up and down my Noddle to reflect on my own self Sir Your Humble Servant and what strange checquered Fortunes had filled the Lines of my Horoscope I followed my self in my busy Imagination from my Cradle to my Grave in all my Rises and Falls my Ups and Downs and heres and theres and every where 's and upon the 〈◊〉 sincerely protest unto thee O judicious gentle courteous Reader that after the severest Investigation both of History and Experience I câ—n no where find my Parallel and am apt now to believe what I thought too much my Friends have sometimes bin pleas'd to Complement me with that I was indeed an Original My Name is or shall be KAINOPHILVS my Birth-place of Abode and Fortunes you are n't like to know unless you 'll read this Book and almost a dozen more for 't is impossible to comprize such great things in a little compass and tho' the World has heard of Homer in a Nutshel yet no Man alive ever saw Tostatus on a Silver penny But in short if ever Fernand Mendez â—nto had strange luck who actually Rambled over 999 Kingdoms 50 Empires 66 Common-Wealths was 100 times Cast away 40 times Stript 50 times Whipt 21 times sold for a Slave 50 times Condemn'd to Death and a 1000 times Killed Murthered and stark cold and dead in the Imagination I say of his Enemies I say again if he deserved Recommendation and Admiration making the World stare agen with his Super-gorgonick wonders if Modesty would give me leave I could say much more do I so Who have But again I won't forestall ye tho' really the matter presses and my pregnant Brain labours with so many painful pangs to be obstetricated that I verily fear I shall burst before I come to disgorge it thro' my fruitful Quill to avoid which I 'll Ramble on as fast as I can scamper thro' this Porch which yet I must tell ye if t' were a Mile long wond'n't be bigger than the House at the endon't To the point from this Cypress Grove I was telling you of I Rambled into my Life from my Life into a brown Studdy What thought I wi' my self very soberly if I should oblige this World now this ungrateful World with a History of this strange Life of mine Hang 't it dos n't deserve it Yet I may do it for my own sake not theirs But then they 'll envy me virtue must expect no other But they 'll Laugh at me why can't I laugh at them agen But they 'll frown and scowl and look ugly Pish pish I l'e fit them for that if I don't may I be posted in stead of my Book Besides there may be some certain Perquisites Considerations and so forth sometimes the World has bin just to things of Value Coriats works Tom Thumb seven Champions Pilgrims Progress some good some bad some take some not and mine has a chance for 't It is Decreed nor shall thy Frowns O Critick Prevent my Work So to 't I went Hammer and Tongs as the Vulgar say and after long and laborious licking out came this Beautiful Birth that 's just a hop stride and jump before you none I'lle assure ye of the short-lived unlaboured pieces which like the Ephemeris Ah poor Ephemeris is got in Morning born at Noon and dead by Night but a thing ay and such a thing as has a quod nec Iovis ira nec ignis writ in the Forehead on 't As neither shall be destroyed by Lightning Tobacco-pipes nor Thunder'd at with Sulphurious blasts beneath But labour'd and polish'd the works of sweating thoughts and many a drudging hour tho' 't is confest a pleasant Drudgery Comprehending or inveloping within its Spatious Circumference no less than all the visible and intellectual World All parts of this little Vniverse Rambled over in a Moment Reader even by thee if thou hast a Soul like mine Do but look on the Title-page here 's that will challenge all Little Brittain and Duck-Lane Nay take in the Toppers of Pauls-Church-Yard too one and all tho' they were as high as the Steeple and as big as the Cupilo I 'll be try'd by themselves tho' they seldom commend Copies or Authors none of their own I say agen I 'll be try'd by themselves and their own Confession so bold and Conscious of it self true Merit is as well as Innocence wheâ—her e're a one of 'em all ever Printed such a Book in their Lives Indeed I cannot better or fuller describe it than telling you in two words 't is every thing For as the Lives and Actions of great Princes contain one way or other the greatest part of the History of the times and Ages they live in so the Reader will find in the Life of one Traveller my individual self Don Kainoâ—hilus alias Evander the whole Description of I scorn to say one Country one Age or one World but of all the Habitable and Uninhabitable Creation Terra incognita described as plain as Ireland in Petty's Surrey â—very Foot Pearch and Inch on 't Virtue and Vice Wit and Folly all the Humours Religions Customs Whims and Connundrums of Mankind Directions how to â—ear himself in every part and Stage of Life from the Sucking-Bottle and Clouts to the last hot suppings and burying in Woollen And whereas it has bin the fatal â—â—happiness or raâ—her Crime of most other Ramblers Real or Feign'd who have committed their Observations and Adventures to Writing to encourage Vice by their Examples even while they pretend to reprove it in their words or ore tenus as the Learned this incomparable Author whom
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
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