Selected quad for the lemma: love_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A16768
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Pasquils mad-cap· And his message.; Pasquils mad-cap. Part 1
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Breton, Nicholas, 1545?-1626?
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1600
(1600)
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STC 3675; ESTC S123326
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14,364
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50
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PASQVILS MAD-CAP And his Message LONDON Printed by V. S. for Thomas Bushell and are to bee solde at his shop at the great North doore of Paules 1600. To the Reader WHAT you are that reade this I know not and how you like it I greatly care not the honest will keepe their condition in spight of the diuell and for them that are of the foure and twentie Orders God amend them for I cannot what I haue written was in a madde humor and so I hope by your reading you will imagine a gallde hackeney will winch if he heare but the noyse of a Currie-combe while a better horse will abide dressing and be quiet call a foole a foole and he will either crie or scratch and yet an Oxe cannot hide his hornes though he were clad in a Beares skinne To bee short I wish well to all honest professions I honour the Souldier I reuerence the Diuine I commend the Lawyer and I obserue the Courtier The Marchant I hold a man of worth the Farmer a rich fellow the Craftes-man no foole and the Laborer worthy his hyre but sor the Beggar he dwelles so neere my doore that I am weary of his companie and therefore let Souldiers march Diuines preach Lawyers pleade Marchants trafficke Craftes-men follow their trade and Worke-men take paines Fencers play and Players thriue I say nothing to them all but when they goe well to worke God speede the plough he that cannot abide the wether let him lay by his fether the Wise will liue in his Wisedome and the foole will die in his folly of vvhich number hopimg you are none I leaue my labour to your pleasure to consider of as your patience vvill giue you leaue and so rest your friend PASQVILS Mad-cappe WHy should Man loue this wretched world so much In which is nothing but all worse than naught Shadowes and shews of things are nothing such While strong illusions haue too weak a thought With wicked humours too much ouer wrought The witch of Will and ouerthrow of Wit Where gracelesse sinnes doe in their glory sit Beautie is but a Babies looking glasse While Money eates into the Misers hart And guarded Pride all like a golden Asse Makes Lecherie lay open euery part Slouth lies and sleepes and feares no waking smart While froath and fatte in drunken gluttony The venome shew of natures villany Patience is counted but a Poets fancie While Wrath keepes reakes in euery wicked place And fretting Envie falne into a franzie While tyrant Murther treades a bloudy trace And blessed Pittie dare not shew her face Pride Power and Pence march in such battell ray As beares downe all that comes within their way The wealthy Rascall be he ne're so base Filthy ill-fauourd vgly to behold Mowle-eie Plaise-mouth Dogges-tooth and Camels face Blind dumbe and deafe diseased rotten old Yet if he haue the coffers full of gold He shall haue reuerence curtsie cappe and knee And worship like a man of high degree He shall haue Ballads written in his praise Bookes dedicated vnto his patronage Wittes working for his pleasure many waies Petigrees sought to mend his parentage And linckt perhaps in noble marriage He shall haue all that this vile world can giue him That into Pride the Diuells mouth may driue him If he can speake his words are Oracles If he can see his eies are spectacles If he can heare his eares are miracles If he can stand his legges are pinacles Thus in the rules of Reasons obstacles If he be but a beast in shape and nature Yet giue him wealth he is a goodly creature But be a man of ne're so good a minde As fine a shape as Nature can deuise Vertuous and gracious comely wise and kinde Valiant well giuen full of good qualities And almost free from Fancies vanities Yet let him want this silthie worldly drosse He shall be sent but to the Beggars Crosse. The foole will scoffe him and the knaue abuse him And euery Rascall in his kinde disgrace him Acquaintance leaue him and his friends refuse him And euery dogge will from his doore displace him Oh this vile world will seeke so to deface him That vntill death doe come for to relieue him He shall haue nothing here but that may grieue him If he haue Pence to purchase pretty things Shee that doth loathe him will dissemble loue While the poore man his heart with sorrow wrings To see how Want doth womens loue remoue And make a Iacke Daw of a Turtle-doue If he be rich worldes serue him for his pelfe If he be poore he may go serue himselfe If he be rich although his nose do runne His lippes do slauer and his breath do stinke He shall haue napkins faire and finely spunne Pilles for the rhewme and such perfumed drinke As were he blind he shall not seeme to wincke Yea let him cough halke spit and fart and pisse If he be wealthy nothing is amisse But with his pence if he haue got him power Then halfe a God that is more halfe a Deuill Then Pride must teach him how to looke as sower As Beldames milke that turned with her sneuill While the poore man that little thinketh euill Though nobly borne shall feare the Beggars frowne And creepe and crowch vnto a filthy Clowne Oh he that wants this wicked cankred Coine May fret to death before he finde reliefe But if he haue the cunning to purloine And ease the Beggar of his biting griefe Although perhaps he play the priuie theefe It is no matter if the bagges be full Well fares the wit that makes the world a Gull The Chuffe that sits and champes vpon his chaffe May haue his Mawkin kisse him like a mare And on his Barne-dore-threshold lie and laugh To see the Swaggrer with the Beggars share Follow the Hounds till he hath caught the Hare Oh t is the purse that guilds the Bullockes horne And makes the Shrew to laugh the sheepe to scorne Who hath not seene a logger-headed Asse That hath no more wit than an olde ioin'd stoole Prinking himselfe before a Looking-glasse And set a face as though he were no foole When he that well might set the calfe to schoole Must be attentiue to the Ganders keake Or giue a plaudit when the Goose doth speake Let but a Dunce a Dizard or a Dolt Get him a welted gowne a sattin coate Then though at randon he doe shoot his bolt By telling of an idle tale by roate Where Wisedome findes not one good word to note Yea though he can but grunde like a swine Yet to the eight wise men he shall be nine But for a poore man be he ne're so wise Grounded in rules of Wit and Reasons grace And in his speeches neuer so precise To put no word out of Discretions place Yet shall you see in shutting vp the case A pesant slouen with the purses sleight Will humme and hah him quite out of conceit Looke on a souldiour that hath brauely seru'de And with
For time will come that all wil come to light Do not perswade a foole that he is wise Nor make a Beggar thinke he is a King Say not a Mole can see that hath no eies Nor starke dead stockes haue any power to spring For while that Logicke would maintaine a lie T is easely found out in Philosophie Tell idle eies that know not how to looke Their wanton thoughts will worke them nought but woes Tell addle wittes that haue the world mistooke Vnbrideled willes are Reasons ouerthrowes While onely Trueth that walkes by Wisedomes line Happieth the heart and makes the soule diuine Goe to the Court and tell your gratious Queene That in her loue her land hath blessed beene And tell her land that you haue truely seene No Court on earth more graced in a Queene Where Vertue giues a kinde of heauenly Crowne That all the world can neuer tumble downe There tell the Lordes and Ladies in their eares They must be loyall in their humble loues The fairest Badge that Honor euer beares Is in a crowne a nest of Turtle-doues The crowne of Lawrell that can neuer wither The Birdes in loue that liue and die togither There tell the Courtier he doth kindely serue That of his curtsie cannot make a cloake Where Bounties hand doth honor best deserue That giues rewarde before the word be spoke And tell the Gallants that will seeke for Graces Chaste modest eies best figure Angells faces Goe bidde the Lawyers looke their Common places And where they know the trueth there giue the right For God himselfe who heares the poore mans cases VVill giue a day vnto their darkest night When in the booke that doth all thoughts disclose Their soules shall see whereto iniustice growes Goe to the learned Vniuersities And tell the Schollers of the losse of time Bidde them beware of too much liberties Best thriuing plants are tended in their prime And bidde them first goe read the rules of Grace That lower blessings may come on a pace Tell country Players that old paltry iests Pronounced in a painted motley coate Fills all the world so full of Cuckoes nests That Nightingales can scarcely sing a note Oh bidde them turne their minds to better meanings Fields are ill sowne that giue no better gleanings Goe tell the Fidlers that doe haunt the Faires They are but coales to kindle wicked fires Where onely Pence do make vnequall paires Performe the actions of vncleane desires When in an Ale-house in a drunken pot The diuell daunceth though they see him not Goe tell the Swaggrers that doe vse to sweare Heere or in hell their mouthes will sure bee stopt And tell the theeues that robbe without a feare That Tiborne trees must once a month be topt And tell the cluster of the damned Crue Such hell hounds heauen out of her mouth doeth spue Bidde each Diuine goe closely to his booke And truly teach the comforts of the soule And to his life to haue a carefull looke Knowing what actions Angels doe enrowle And tell them truly that diuinitie VVith worldly loue hath no affinitie Feed not the Souldiour with delight of blood VVhile Mercie is the honour of a field And tell the Merchant that ill-gotten good A wretched life a wofull end will yeeld And tell the Miser vsurer of monie His soule is poisoned with his bodies honie Goe tell the Craftes-man of his craftie worke And that his cousoning one day will decay For long the Fox may in his borow lurke That may be catcht in hunting for his pray And whereas truth can onely beare a blame Falshoode must runne and hide her face for shame Goe tell the Fencer with his deadly foine That Caine and Abel yet are currant weight VVhere is more easie for to part than ioine The soule and bodie by a wicked sleight VVhile secret Murther in the sinners brest VVill neuer let the foule to be at rest Goe tell the Beggar at the Rich mans gate That Lazarus in Abrahams bosome liues And tell the Rich that Diues wofull state Doth shew what almes lacke of Pittie giues And tell the VVise that Salomon is dead VVhile wilfull Fancie brings a Foole to bedde Goe bid the Iailour looke vnto his charge And not be cruell where he may be kinde For though a prisoner be not set at large Yet in his sorrow let him comfort finde That when the soule at Mercies doore doth knocke Pittie on earth may ope the heau'nly locke Goe to the prisoner that doth liue opprest And tell him Patience is a heau'nly power That in all troubles giues the Spirit rest And makes it happie in a heau'nly hower When true Remorce that Vertues griefe doeth see From Care and Sorrow soone will set him free Goe tell the wretch that would and cannot thriue That his endeuour standeth for a deede And bid the sicke man in his soule reuiue While Angells ioyes on sinners teares do feede And tell the soule that mourneth for her sinne Heau'n gates stand open for to let her in Tell not the Crow that she is lillie white Because a Painter colourd hath her coate Nor say a Cuckoe hath in musicke sight Because in Maie she hittes vpon a noate But say the Crow is blacke the Cuckoe's hoarse The finest carkasse will be but a coarse Tell Aesopes Pig that Flies with Peacockes feathers They are but stolne or borrowed not her owne And tell the shippe that sailes in roughest weather Vpon a Rocke she may be ouerthrowne And tell the Hart that will not keepe the wood To graze too farre will doe him little good Goe tell the Poets that their pidling rimes Begin apace to grow out of request While wanton humours in their idle times Can make of Loue but as a laughing iest And tell prose-Writers Stories are so stale That pennie Ballads make a better sale Goe tell the Authors of high Tragedies That bloudlesse quarrells are but merry fights And such as best conceit their Comedies Do feede their fancies but with fond delights Where toyes will shew that figure Trueths intention They spoile their spirites with two much inuention Goe bid the Scriuener looke in his Indentures That no ill couenant a conueiance marre And tell the Sailer that in Sea aduentures A shippe ill guided splits vpon a barre And tell the Fisher when he layes his nets He fisheth ill that but a Gudgin gets Goe tell the Iugglers that their iests are toies Where Wisedome seeth the woorth of little wit Their exercises but for girles and boies That watch the Gander while the Goose doth sit Their trickes but trifles bred by wickednesse But to deceiue the eie of simplenesse Goe tell the Pander and the Parasite The one his tongue is like the others minde The Parasite without a tooth can bite The Pander liues in a more loathsome kinde The one his facultie is flatterie The other liues by fitthie Lecherie Goe tell the traitor if thou hitst of any That Iudas is a prologue to their play And tell the world