Each powd❜red graine ransometh captive kings,
Purchaseth realmes, and life prolonged brings.
SAW'ST thou ever Siquis patch'd on Paul's church
To seeke some vacant vicarage before? [doore,
Who wants a churchman that can service say,
Read fast and faire his monthly homiley?
And wed and bury, and make christen-soules?
Come to the left-side alley of Saint Poules.
Thou servile foole, why could'st thou not repaire
To buy a benefice at steeple-faire?
There moughtest thou, for but a slender price,
Advowson thee with some fat benefice:
Or if thee list not waite for dead men's shoon,
Nor pray each morn th' incumbent's daies were
A thousand patrons thither ready bring
Their new-faln churches to the chaffering;
Stake three yeares' stipend; no man asketh more:
Go take possession of the church-porch doore,
And ring thy bells; lucke stroken in thy fist:
The
parsonage is thine, or ere thou wist.
Saint Fooles of Gotam mought thy parish be
For this thy base, and servile symonie.
A GENTLE Squire would gladly entertaine
Into his house some trencher-chaplaine:
Some willing man that might instruct his sons,
And that would stand to good conditions.
First, that he lie upon the truckle-bed,
Whiles his young maister lieth o'er his head.
Second, that he do, on no default,
Ever presume to sit above the salt.
Third, that he never change his trencher twise.
Fourth, that he use all common courtesies;
Sit bare at meales, and one halfe rise and wait.
Last, that he never his yong maister beat,
But he must aske his mother to define,
How manie jerkes she would his breech should line.
All these observ'd, he could contented bee,
To give five markes and winter liverie.
In th' Heav'ns universal alphabet
All earthly thinges so surely are foreset,
That who can read those figures, may foreshew
Whatever thing shall afterwards ensue :
Faine would I know (might it our artist please)
Why can his tell-troth Epemerides
Teach him the weather's state so long beforne,
And not foretell him, nor his fatall horne,
Nor his death's day, nor no such sad event;
Which he mought wisely labour to prevent?
Thou damned mock-art, and thou brainsick tale
Of old astrologie: where did'st thou vaile
Thy cursed head thus long, that so it mist
The black bronds of some sharper satyrist?
Some doting gossip 'mongst the Chaldee wives,
Did to the credulous world thee first derive;
And Superstition nurs'd thee ever sence,
And publisht in profounder art's pretence :
That now, who pares his nailes, or libs his swine,
But he must first take counsel of the signe.
So that the vulgars count for faire or foule,
For living or for dead, for sick or whole.
His feare or hope, for plentie or for lacke,
Hangs all upon his new-year's almanack.
If chance once in the spring his head should ake,
It was foretold: thus sayes mine almanack.
In th' Heaven's high-street are but dozen roomes,
In which dwells all the world, past and to come.
Twelve goodly innes they are, with twelve fayre
Ever well tended by our star-divines.
[signes, Everie man's head innes at the horned Ramme, The whiles the necke the black Bull's guest be
Th' arms, by good hap, meet at the wrastling
Twins,
Th' heart in the way, at the blue Lion innes.
The leggs their lodging in Aquarius got;
That is the Bride-streete of the Heaven I wot.
The feet took up the Fish with teeth of gold;
But who with Scorpio lodg'd may not be told.
What office then doth the star-gazer beare?
Or let him be the Heaven's ostelere,
Or tapsters some, or some be chamberlaines,
To waite upon the guests they entertaine.
Hence can they reade, by virtue of their trade,
When any thing is mist, where it was laide.
Hence they divine, and hence they can devise,
If their aim faile, the stars to moralize.
Demon, my friend, once liver-sicke of love,
Thus learn'd I by the signes his griefe remove:
In the blinde Archer first I saw the signe,
When thou receiv'dst that wilful wound of thine;
And now in Virgo is that cruel mayde,
Which hath not yet with love thy love repaide.
But marke when once it comes to Gemini,
Straightway fish-whole shall thy sicke-liver be.
But now (as th' angrie Heavens seeme to threat
Manie hard fortunes, and disastres great)
If chance it come to wanton Capricorne,
And so into the Ram's disgraceful horne,
Then learne thou of the ugly Scorpion,
To hate her for her fowle abusion :
Thy refuge then the balance be of right,
Which shall thee from thy broken bond acquite:
So with the Crab, go back whence thou began,
From thy first match, and live a single man.
SOME say my Satyres over loosely flowe,
Nor hide their gall enough from open
Not, riddle like, obscuring their intent;
But, packe-staffe plaine, utt'ring what thing they
Contrarie to the Roman ancients,
Whose words were short, and darksome was their
Who reades one line of their harsh poesies,
Thrice must he take his winde, and breathe him thrice :
My Muse would follow them that have foregone, But cannot with an English pineon;
For looke how farre the ancient comedie
Past former satyres in her libertie :
So farre must mine yield unto them of olde; "Tis better be too bad, than be too bolde.
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