GOod morrow Sir.

Good morrow.

Doe not you know me?

No, What art thou?

A Rascall, any thing that may deserve the name of foole or knave, or theef, or murtherer; I'm justly liable to all the scornthat truth can cast upon ignorance and malice, I am a slave, abeggar.

Hold I pray thee, whither wilt thou run?

Why, I'le run my countrey, and glad I may scape so, for I have neither friends, nor meanes, nor honesty, nor any thing that is good left, neither within or without me, I am indeed a Ma­lignant, an enemy to God, my King, my Countrey, nay to my selfe, my wife, my children, every body.

And why art thou so?

Faith 'tis a curse that God hath laid upon me for my sins, that's all I can see in't. Sir I perceive you know not what it is to be a malignant,

No.

Why 'tis to bee a devill in the shape of a man, one that despiseth all manner of goodnesse, cries downe all that speake well, and hates all that doe well, he cannot abide Parliamens, lest a reformation should force him to amendment of life, and so fave his soule, he loves not the Laws because he loves to do that for which the Laws would hang him: He lives every where and takes all shapes upon him. I have heard it credibly reported that there is not a parish in the City cleare of him, and he hath so dis­persed his poyson in the Suburbs, that but few have escaped the [Page 3]infection. He is sometimes a Gallant, sometimes a Marchant, sometimes a Mecanich, but always a Rascall.

It seemes you hate your own condition and repent.

Yes, I doe repent now 'tis too late.

Too late, that cannot be.

Yes yes, all's gone, I am rob'd, undone, plundered, pilla­ged, the Cavalliers, the Theeves, the Rogues, the Rebbels have taken all away, and left me nothing but too late repentance.

Pray open a little the story of your miseries, that I may know how to pittie you.

Sir your pittie I neither deserve nor desire, but if you please I'le tell you that shall make you hate me, I was of late a Cy­cesterian where I had good meanes, & liv'd in the best fashion, but my honest neighbours could never perswade me to the truth, I loved pleasure and follie, feared nothing more then to be godly, delighted most in the basest company, for none could ever give me such cōtent, as those that have now undone me, he that would swear loudly, & drink stoutly I called my associate, and he that talk'd of piety or Prayer my enemy: Thus when I might have liv'd well I neglected it, and now I must live ill because I cannot helpe it.

Then you were in the Town when 'twas lost.

Yes I was one of them.

And how came you off?

Why by running away, the truth is, I built so much upon mineown malignant merit, that having holpe the Rogues to rob many of my neighbours, at length I was forced to do the like by my selfe; I stood off a while and pleaded malignancie, gave as good words as I could, that my bad actions might prosper, I told them that I was as bad as they, and swore it, rail'd upon the Parliament, curst all Round-heads and Puritans, rapt out 5. or 6. oaths with as much grace as was possible for such agracelesse vil­lain, all would not do, they answered that they were acustomed to that kinde of cousenage and made me work on, so when I had laboured to load all my goods for Oxford, I watcht my oppor­tunity, and never any man parted so joyfully from that he loved so dearely.

It seemes then you were faulty in this businesse.

yes, and deserve to be hang'd for't. Sir shall I tell you, had there beene in our Towne of Cice-ster, halfe so many Round-heads as there were Malignants the Town had never beene taken, for they used all possible meanes they could to defend it, and we that were the major part (out of meere ma­lice to them) did what we could to betray it: How we were betwitcht I know not, but for my part I finde my selfe so changed, that I am confident I was either inchanted then, or am inspired now.

How meane you by that?

I see with other eyes me thinkes, my affections & thoughts are chang'd, I hate that I lov'd, and I love that I hated, Justice and truth appeare faire and amiable, and vice and villanie odi­ous. In briefe I like so wel the name of a Christian, that (for all my lost wealth) I would not be again an Aegyptian.

A good change, and now you begin to know your selfe, I shall begin to know you, be resolute in this, and your gain exceeds your losse.

How long have you been a poet?

As long as you have beene a convert, you see this age is ful of changes, but indeed this whimsie tooke me at the first dis­covery of the black cloudes that have bred all these Tempests, when I saw distraction in the face of the Kingdom, I could no longer contain my selfe, but grew mad too, and fel to making verses.

Sir shall I be beholding to you?

For what?

If your leasure wil serve you, I pray repeate some of them.

That I dare do to you, because I feare not your censure, besides, though they were made two or three yeers since, yet be­cause they have some affinity w ^th the times, you shall heare them.

Now in my minde these are admirable good lines, and as fit for the times, as if they had beene made but yesterday, ano­ther of these good Sir.

I confesse I have another or two, but they are somewhat further off, yet since they are not altogether impertinent, and that I perceive such toyes are effectual to revive your malancho­ly and drooping spirits, you shall have them.

So what doe you thinke of this, are you satisfied now?

Sir I am pleased but not satisfied, of that I like best, I al­wayes desire most, but Sir by your favour me thinkes tis strange that there is nothing in these lines touching the confusion of this Spanish Fleete.

If that will give you such content you shall have it by and by, for the truth is, these were made (such as they are), at the Fleets first comming into the Downs.

O how I long to heare of the confusion of those that plot and endeavour the destruction of this poore Kingdom!

What thinke you of this?

Good, excellent good.

So I have that I lookt for.

But now I have done this at your intreatie, Ile make bold to intreat you to heare a little further: I have yet a few other lines that were written in almost as mad a fit as you were when I met you, here they are.

I am sory I have nothing but thanks to give you for so large an expression of love to me, but if my service may in any thing be acceptable I shall for this free favor be ever willing to be commanded by you.