VVil: Bagnal's Ghost.

Or the MERRY DEVILL Of GADMVNTON.

In his perambulation of the Prisons of LONDON.

By E. GAYTON, Esq;.

LONDON, Printed by W. Wilson, for Thomas Johnson at the Golden-Key in St. Pauls Church-yard. 1655.

TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND Mr. GIFFORD, The Meriting Master of the Counter in the Poultry.

Worthy Sir,

( VNto whom being gone from you I am still a Prisoner, and obliged in gratefull bands:) Suffer I pray si this escaped Bird out of your Cage (for there it was hatched and fledg'd) to returne (like a Robin in the Winter) to warme it selfe, at your house, that is, to have the Protection of your Ac­ceptance. I know the Proverb will bite me, and say I am an ill Bird (for defiling or [Page] rather publishing some undecencies of my late nest,) it is not Sir, with any intention to increase the dung, but clense the Augean Stable wherein your Herculean hands have labour'd, and daily doe, to the very great applause even of those who are not o­therwise so well pleased with their Capti­vity. Nothing herein reflects upon any one personally, and not in the least thought upon your selfe; The passages are true, the mirth innocent, the Author is as hee shall al­waies acknowledge himselfe to be Sir,

Your gratefull Servant E. G.

Counter-VVork.

NO more (will Bagnall) let thy tale
Be read, of blades, who in their Ale,
Did spew, and fight, and shite, and stale,
Ith' scuffle.
Whether in Wood-street it befell,
Or in the Poultry, or in Hell,
The places are alike, and smell,
oth' ruffle.
It was our chance to be in one,
Wherein I wrote thy name in stone,
It is the monument alone
There Written.
And stands upon the two penny side,
One paire of staires, 'bove them that 'bide
Ith' hole; by which a place is spied
To shite in.
Now ( Will) thy name, and so thy verse,
Deserves not to make Bumpkins terse,
Although of Paper there is scarce.
(For clensing.)
[Page 2] Yet as they did on Toppe of Pauls,
In thousand leaden scrible scrowles,
I must be writing like those Owles
Non-sense-In.
And having nothing in that place
Of Witt, snapt up (by a
One W. Serjeant at Woodstreet.
hard face
Had little silver but his Mace,)
'Twas Copper.
Toth' very end of his red nose,
I did my selfe in thee repose,
And spent my time in verse and prose
Most proper.
But who shall ever finde a night
Like thine for Tipple, and for fight?
Or who shall ever, so well write,
Or fancy?
When will Concenter such a crew?
Of Captaine, Parson, and of Lu—
Ellis, and Lockwood that back flew
White Tansey.
No men will so resolved meet,
To lose their own to make thy feet
Famous through London and Fleetstreet
And upward.s
Beyond the Devill, or the place
Where once the Salutation was,
And (now in Salts) old Charing-Crosse
On Cupp-boards.
Where such a Lawyer as durst speake
Both broken Latin, French or Greeke)
And thought himselfe in Law not weake,
To Ellis.
Ellis for Armes and fisticuffs
Beyond our Hectors, or the Buffs
That vapour in their Ale at Huff's
And tell lyes.
[Page 3] Where shall we finde such men or meat,
Which did themselves, and food defeat,
And yet had stomacks left to eat
The fragments?
Which to a wonder did abound
The pots and dishes too run roun
And men in meat, and drinke were found,
It augments
The Bill of fare of the whole Feast,
Forbeards, and butter were then drest,
Mustard and bands which in earnest
Are licked.
Two are at dinner with a face,
Hidd in thick Ling and wry mouth Plaise,
Which they without all feare and grace
Had kicked.
When that I fortun'd to come in,
Septemb. 22. 1655.
Nothing was on the merry pin,
The Hole was likest to begin
The frolique.
But such a dismall night, as that
Without one Mouse, and but one Ratt,
Made all as glumme, as any Catt
With colick.
Nor shall our fancy here supply,
VVhere matter doth it selfe Deny,
VVe will with what we finde comply,
And write on
The Subjects as they loosely fell,
The Hole.
And first of him, that from the Cell
Did through the yard (O foule to tell!)
So sh [...] on.
That from the hole toth' two penny ward,
He had bedighted all the yard,
And those that came ith darke were mar'd
In Plaister.
[Page 4] But not of Paris, unlesse that
Of the Beares homely Garden Platt,
But straight complaints were brought of that
Toth' Master.
For all the VVards from two to sixe,
In English morter fowly sticks,
A poore crazed pri­soner.
These were old Braziers filthy tricks,
VVho thinking,
To set their feet at liberty,
(For up all heeles full swift did fly)
Left all his squitterd company,
Most stinking.
The Master as his place requir'd,
The reason of the fault desir'd,
(For he saw all his guests bemir'd.)
They snifted,
And gave the Answer through the nose,
VVhich made him straight the man suppose,
Especially when One his clothes
Up lifted.
O villain Brasier (said the Master,)
Art thou fowle cause of this disaster?
That no man can his foot set fast-here,
But slideth
As if the stones were all of Ice,
And all this from a nasty slice-
Ile mew you (sirrah) for this vice,
So 'biddeth
Loose Brasier fast, and in the stocks,
Repents with both leggs under locks,
But his foul'd friends with wipes and mockes
Do fit him.
For they the nasty foole did jeere,
And on him doe their Breeches cleare,
As he doth sit ith' wofull chaire,
All shitten.
[Page 5] Brasier himselfe thus painted seeing,
Not able to endure his beeing
(And finding well there was no flying,)
The fellow
Shooke off the stuffe, and wide it threw,
And well disperst it 'mongst the crew;
For he did ding it, white and blew
And yellow.
So did Sir Simius,
A Jack an Apes.
when he
Had laid himselfe full craftily,
(For Apes are full of Policy)
Ith' close-stoole.
In the new minted close-stoole-pan,
VVhere that her Ladiship and Nan
Her waiting Maid did now and than
There os-coole.
But while that he in knavery
Lay in the stoole, full hastily
Came Nanny to her privacy
And sliced
So swiftly on Sir Simius,
All his new coat was pickled thus,
In stuffe they call Merd-urinus,
Which hoysed
Sir Simius to such a mount,
He leapt from out the nasty Fount,
And cald Nann's monky to account
For Dashing
His very fine coate and filthy Face,
Nanny affrighted left the place
And ran where that her Sister was
A washing.
But Sim (like Brasier) afore said
His shitten pranks vbique plaid,
And fowld himselfe, fowle others made,
He tripped,
[Page 6] Bedabled so into the hall,
VVhere gallants were a playing all
At dice and cards, the beastly squall,
All sipid,
Dances in's livery o're the boards,
(And made fowle play, but yet no words)
The gallants all in Nannyes curds
VVere painted.
Had Jack A long tayld Monkey been,
H' had drawn it all along each chinn,
For want of that, things were but thinn,
It scanted.
So that the fewer were the staines,
Yet those spoyld all the Ladies traines,
And to the Butler went the gaines
Oth' Table.
VVhich were full great, for left behind
VVere Counters rich of every kind,
Which made the Butlers not much minde
The Dable.
But went away with Snift up snout,
And cast this pritty Proverb out,
Money is sweet, in shitten clout,
And thanked
The Gentlemen for their large vailes,
And for the shattering of the tayles
Of Jack and Nan, and wip'd his nailes
In's blancket.
Now though the first Scene of our Story
Is in fowle paper brought before ye,
(For which old Brasier now is sorry.)
A cleaner,
And neater tale, shall next ensue,
(Which will perfume the sprinkled crew)
And doth hold forth a man of new
Demeanor.
[Page 7] One was too grosse, and this too nice,
This sware the Prison smelt of lice,
Of urine, and of seige and mioe
And rats-turds.
The Man was not so much ith' wrong,
(Twas true he said,) but for his Tongue,
Not one amongst the' inthralled throng
A hatt stird.
Us'd to those Aires, and not to his
They misled at his vanities,
And damne Rose water, under pisse,
And vouched
Tantaublint Fumes, and those of Dungus,
(Which are for ever smelt among us)
With Celler stinks▪ and those oth' long-house
Nere crouched,
Nor ever should to Benjamin
Or Storax, or to Pouder thinne
Which cockscombes on their haire blow in
With puffins:
With which they doe all floore their capes,
And looke like mealed Shack an Apes,
All which their Ladyes (oft Time shapes)
Doe snuffe in.
Not in th' Exchange, nor grand-le Martin,
(Wherein nor Major, nor yet comes cart in)
Affords such wholsome smells and certain,
As Play now
About our noses (Sir Milke soppe,)
So chucks the fellow under chopp▪)
And straight one letts from his foule shoppe
Hary cane.
That is, a constant winde that playes,
From lower Ano, nights and dayes,
And never in one quarter stayes,
But ranges
[Page 8] From coast to coast, from side to side,
And the whole compasse through had tryde,
And Nose nore-east, nore-west doth ride
In's Changes.
So compass'd every snout, untill
Tunnells and Nostrills had their fill;
One belong­ing to the Law.
And my spruce Clerke too (will he nill)
Had's share on't.
Which made him reach and spit so fast,
(That all his stomack ran at wast)
And those that were about him plac'd,
Did stare on't.
But knowing he belong'd to the Law,
They durst not quarrell with his maw,
For feare of querks, or some new Flaw
Or quillets.
The clerke did utter all his mind,
(But not a word let fall behind)
Though nought in's belly was but wind,
To Fill it.
Which made him move unto his chamber,
Not now so strong of's muske, and amber)
And up three stories he did clamber
To a lodging:
Which when he saw, in scorne he cry'd,
Go bring me to the Masters side,
Tis not a place for to be tide
A dogge in
Blany the Steward said he must
Lye there, or in the hole ith' dust,
For all the house that night was thrust
So Fully,
That he did verily presume,
There was no place nor empty roome,
But what he made, since in he come,
In's gully.
[Page 9] The huffy puffy Stewards words,
Were to our Clerke like any swords,
He sigh'd and said the Lane affords
(Calld Fetter)
Both better sheets and braver beds,
And pottage for our Totty-heads:
Where dine for three pence the Law reds,
Farre better.
Then did he think to walke all night,
(But Candles are a precious light)
A penny two, with which you might
See nothing
Of Stooles or Formes, but cobwebs thick
Which were both Canopy, and Ticke:
But to save charges he was quick
Uncloathing.
And there he lay all night, and shooke,
(As if next Terme had been mistooke,)
And untill Candlemasse must looke
For incombes.
Then mumbling somewhat in his bed
He softly said, no more (poore Ned)
Doe so againe, this is the thred
From sinne comes.
Ply thine owne businesse Ned, nor lett
Or Shoo [...], or Fetter lane, more gett
Or Rutting Alley, what we swett
At nose for.
In writing Brevlates in frost nights
By Dwindling twinkling small rush lights,
And feare no Devills, nor no Sprights
That goes for
The Fenchers not for us, unlesse
We spend our halfe crownes on browne Besse,
Which is the cause I doe professe
Most justly.
[Page 10] I am thus meane imprisoned,
And 'cause I late so highly fed,
In such a hellish nasty bed
I must lie.
And drink my drinke, as in some places,
They eat their porridge, with their faces;
(For here's no cupps, nor canns, nor glasses)
And liquor
If that you tooke it from the shoare,
Where men doe pisse, and somewhat more,
It cannot be (I will be swore)
Much thicker.
O hard misfortune of just fate!
O Oxford John's O Oxford Kates!
Would I were now at any Rates,
A licking-
The dishes, where I, and my Trollups,
Did use to feast it in Scotch Collups,
Which I last night did vomit all up,
None sticking-
(Not by the way) so that the rellish
Of all your dishes rare embellish
Is chang'd to maukish tast and hellish:
I am choaked
With base Tobacco stinks, and Salt
That lookes as black as sootie Mault,
With every thing I find just fault,
(Provoked.)
And now I must to Sermon too;
Sunday mor­ning. 23. Sep­tember.
Which I must hear, for I can't doe
To passe the time (while hee's i'th pew)
As others.
Who both in Hopkins, and King-Psalmes,
Have never any Conscience qualmes▪
But have their Pots and pipes in Palmes
[...]nd Smother.
[Page 11] What ever honest Harry read,
Your Pastor for that day.
(For he his Reading shew'd indeed)
And to the walls indoctrined
Profoundly.
And for his Auditors did looke
About the house (and then on's booke)
But they their smoake, no Preachment tooke,
Most soundly.
Only the Raven,
A tame Ra­ven in the Prison.
they call Ralph,
Sat under Pulpitt, t' made me laugh
To see the Sermon-taking-chaugh
So pious.
But Ralph it seemes was once complain'd
Of, that the Sabbath he profan'd,
And was by Harry's meanes ordain'd
Toth' dry house.
The Hole.
And why not Ravens to the hole,
Their filthy cawing to condole,
(Though Birds we know, have nere a Soule)
The Civill
Law doth permitt transgressing Birds
As well as Wefts, and strayes oth' herds,
May be impounded afterwards
For th' evill.
'Tis on record a Country Widgeon
In law contending with a rich one,
Ploddells case.
Without Replevy kept his Pigeons
(For eating)
His graine from off the common field
Ith pound, (nor were the pigeons seil'd)
And made the owner to him yeeld,
By treating.
The Raven, the aforesaid Ralph,
Of all the Prison is most safe,
For meat and drink he never payeth
One farthing.
[Page 12] And can without (good Robin) goe
Unto the Rose,
A waiter for that purpose.
and to and fro,
Which for the rest, I tell you so,
S' a hard thing.
But there is Jack the boy,
The Celler Boy.
more raving,
Then Ralph unfed, and alwaies craving,
Or else no quietnesse you have in
The Prison.
Who payes, is all h'has learned yet
And how to carry, and to fett,
And on your money first to sett
His eyes on.
But Jack and Ralph differ in notes,
Jack has' the sweeter, (though sharpe notes)
For he does sing away our groates
All day long:
And Ralph is taught to cry Score, Score,
(But never Ralph said any more)
Nor Dunns us at out chamber doore
For fayling.
Touch pott touch penny, so that I
Had rather heare the Raven cry,
Then Jack should sing so sorrily,
It grateth
To pay ones money, 'fore we drink,
And draw (as soone drawne as our chinck,)
My soule abhorrs it, and I think
It hateth.
But patience (my friends) perforce,
Pray heaven it be not yet farre worse!
And Jack and Ralph the lesser curse
Be counted.
Unlesse his Highnesse please by's power [...]
To open yet the Prison doores,
And let us pay our Creditors,
Once mounted.
[Page 13] Set us but free, and try if we
Shall not doe more at liberty
Both for our Country, and for Thee
Redeeming;
Then if in Soot, and Smoake, and damps,
Eate up with lice, shrivell'd with cramps,
For want of common Aire, and vamps,
Dead seeming.
Bring but one smoaky Regiment,
From Woodstreet and the Poultry tents,
Let them be to Jamacha sent
And try it,
If a Mulatto, or a blacke,
Or Devill himselfe do fright them back
If once (they Mexico will Sack)
Come nigh it.
FINIS.

Dignissimo Armigero, pluribus (quàm suo, & tamen suo) nominibus, Colendo; Ephaestioni fidissimo, Compatri Secundo: Cruribus apud Meridionalem Fossam habitanti, tum Salutem, tum Libertatem. Op. Vov.

Honored Sir,

BY more Titles then those in the Front known and esteemed, this South-Work of your Operator in all the points of the Compasse, desires to be in all gratitudes presented to your large and noble hands. It was made in a Cyclops shop for noise, in a Fair for variety of transient Objects, in a Cloister for restraint. This (Sir) may come abroad at a cheaper rate, then his Master (being Terme-time) yet it desires you to make a Vacation for it ( durante Termino) I have stil'd the Poem Eurydice. I dare not warrant the Musick Orphean: It had been pen'd higher, but that you know it is agreeable with our place.

Ptelephus & Peleus cum pauper et exul uterque

Reijcit Ampullas & Sesquipedalia verba. Hor. de Ar. Poet.

Utile & dulce are the best dimension for one in the Rules.

Who if it were in the Tullianum of his Bastill, would without the leave of Molop's make his Irons Clinck to the exhilarating of your noble heart: The enlargment where­of in your honoured Persons liberty is the prayer—Sir,

Of your most obsequious God-son, D' Altâ Speciosâ Villâ.

South-Work.
Eurydice, or a Droll upon his remove from the Counter to the Upper-Bench so called.

WHen Orpheus did Eurydice remove,
And plaid his Mistresse to this world a­bove:
From her warm quarters (by his Harp or
Lute,
'Tis hard to say, and therefore let's be mute)
Charon said not a word, Sir Cerberus
Did hang his ears.—No doubt 'twas only thus
Upon his Instrument; how could he chuse?
Doggs ears are alwaies hanging, and so Jewes.
But this digression, or Parenthesis
Pardon'd, we say again, as first it is.
When Orpheus had done so, know if this wife
Were worth the dancing to a second life;
And if she were ('t may be) whether, or no
She got, by comming from her friends below.
The latter of the Queries I shall presse,
Eurydice's exchange and worstednesse.
For she like that Salt Dame in mickel sorrow,
Enjoy'd her passe from Sodome to Gomorrah.
And by the way, the patterns being alike,
Perchance the stories on one string do strike:
For some Divines do think, the place of Hell
Is, where that first blew burning brimstone fell.
Then for Eurydice, and Madam Lot,
For causes like, they both went to the Pot.
Perchance both salt alive and dead, but that
[Page 16] Strikes at the root, and is not yet so pat.
Our Master of the string (I don't say Creature,
For fear of being to a Wit a debtor)
That tam'd had all the Monsters of the Forrest,
Himselfe of all, had been the sad and sorry'st.)
If when all beasts the power of Musick knew,
He could not fiddle so, to tame a Shrew.
Perchance 'twas so, and in some rainy day,
Pouting, and fasting she e'en dropt away.
But why then should our doting Minstrell follow
A Shrew so low, into a place so hollow?
Whence 'twas a thousand pound to a penny
That he had ere come back, or ever any.
But sure Eurydice by all this stirre,
Was worth the fetching from the Stygian Curre:
Or Orpheus else (play'd he as well as Pan)
I'le swear he was but but such another man.
Supposing then, not granting she was chast,
Not as they say from girdle to the wast,
But otherwise, that's downward: why was she
Translated to the place of Mummery,
That is to Hell? where silence is inflicted
For scolds as have at Hicks-Hall bin indicted:
Their Curtain-Lectures, and their Morning Peales,
Are all reveng'd with lower Common-Weales;
Where Vixens sit like honest Nab i'th Play,
Gagg'd up with Ginger-bread both night and day.
Others for canting, drabbing, and for guzzle,
Like to fierce Curres are alwaies in a Muzzle.
Sisters of Billinsgate there sit upright,
Speechlesse, to the very roots untongued quit;
And that same fiery instrument, as 'twell
Deserves, is boyling still in hell,
Never to cool, or to be ever dryer,
[Page 17] For 'twont be heat by everlasting fire.
Eurydice, if in amongst this crew
Had been penn'd up in a perpetuall mew,
For though the muzled Sisters, and o'th gag;
Of those their lesser judgments do not brag,
Yet when they cannot speak (though ones mouth's ope)
That yet they may at last, it is their hope.
But all in vain. O therefore Women learn
This dreadfull tale, whom ere it may concern!
For sure Eurydice mistook her way,
And had returned without old Orphens play,
And Grissil ne'r came there, O learn of Grissil!
While yet you may, that you ne'r come to this ill.

Status questionis.

EUrydice's concluded was a wife,
A man desires but one such in his life.
For had she had but one ill quality,
She'd ne're return'd unto mortality.
"Perchance tho Orpheus that now sings not plaies,
"Hath met with such a one in his sad daies,
"The Musick of his life, not Instrument,
"Who tames the Beast in him, they call Content.
"If that Eurydice depart from hence,
No Musick here, nor Musick for her thence.

Question.

NOw to the latter Quaerie, wheres the profit
Of her remove to Terra Firme from Tophet.
A scurvy doubt as ever was propounded,
And never yet by any scrupler sounded:
'Twas easily answered, had it been thus stated,
And for resolves you should not long have waited.
Whether from Aegypt, or from Canaan,
From Onyons strong, and Leeks to cream o'th pann,
From clouted shoes, the brown loaf, and the last,
From a perpetuall Lent, and constant Fast,
[Page 18] To be translated into Bootes and feasts,
To be made Lord of men, and so of beasts:
It would be in the affirmative, Ile warr'nt you,
No, not one, no, that's nomine negante.
But 'tis not so (beloved Ephaestion)
This is the meaning of the doubtfull question;
Whether that Hell, the Grave, or honest Mors,
Be not farre better then a passe to worse.
From frying pan to fire. Eurydice
May shift her place but not her Misery.
And so Comparatis Comparandis
Whether the Sea-Slave better then the Land is?
Or plavner yet, whether an old shoo prove
Not full as good, as is a bad remove.

Answer.

WHat were the Counter rarities you have seen,
And these of Southwark instantly begin;
Wherein be pleas'd to follow Metaphor,
And let our Hell be still at Counter-dore,
From which we are remov'd unto that shoar,
Where's noise enough (and that's not hell therefore)
One Boat doth serve to Hell, and that is Charons,
Hither a thousand ply, and they are fair ones:
In this like Charon too, or much thereafter,
He, and our Oares do only Crosse the water;
And his is Stygian, and our pool is Stix,
Whence only Hanon got with all his tricks.
We are in aw, as one in Grammar Schooles,
And ever learning▪ yet nee'r out o'th Rules.
Lilly cann't save us, Lilly the Caldee can't,
Lilly, whom longing Ladies, and Fooles haunt.
Lilly, who erring on th 'Eclyps o'th Sun,
Turn'd Man i'th' Moon (had e'en his wits out-run)
This Master of the Ephemerides,
May cast his heart out soon as one of these
Out of an Execution, though to be
[Page 19] So, on the other side is to be free.
He hath paid all, that holes at Tiburn. 'Tis
All that I know o'th Tripod Liberties.
But here is Torment above Gaol to us,
The Creatures passe as fruit to Tantalus.
The World moves by us, and before our eyes,
And we ne're stirre. Copernicus was wise,
Who found the Earth did move, the Heavens we will
The upper Bench call, from our standing still.
From the Prison gates we see all droves of Kent and Surry.
Oves et Boves, all parts by our eyes,
(As if the Ark had drop'd out of the skies
Like Argo) and did ply at old Trigs staires,
So passe the Beasts in couples to the Fairs:
And Kentish Apples like Tantaleon fruit,
Glide by in Dossars, and we come not to't.
What mean the bleating of the Sheep, and lowing
Of greater Cattle thus? O Lord▪ they'r going,
Would we were so, but we are in those brambles,
We shan't get out, though it were unto the Shambles.
O for an Hebrew
An In­strument to hear.
Hotacousticon!
As the Creation goes Procession
In constant bleats, and bellowings to know,
Like Adams selfe, what every beast did low:
By learned Pococks help, it may be known,
He understands, the whole Creation groans.
Low on our fellow feelers in the flesh,
That drover there that made that deadly gash
In thy prick'd flank (it was a Counter-goad)
Suppose a Serjeant of the Counter-Road.
The Grasiers that do set these men at work
Are Creditors enrag'd, that is a Turke:
Who hath no longer confidence or Faith,
Then his submissive debtor money pay'th.
But to the rest oth' tortures of the place,
The Furies of the night I now will trace.
'Tis now as you must guesse, the noon of night,
[Page 20] That's twelve a clock, if I do tell it right.
When rous'd by dismall lights, and hideous noyse,
(Such as Megaera, and her Tribes enjoyes)
And intermingled wheeles of swift Caroches,
I broke off sleep, that is my Bonus-nochius.
Now when I saw so many flaming lincks,
My fancy like to Rumots, straightly princks,
And I imagine it, a Coarse Incounter,
Such as that doughty Don did once affront there.
Some Kent Committee-man, or one of Surrey,
Whom these Caroches to the Devill do hurry;
Dead of a surfeit of Debentors bought,
Of cheated Souldiers of a thing of nought.
(The purchase of Church-lands) and now this man
Of Bishops state is come but to a spanne:
It is his last desire to be interr'd
In some small Alley that to Pauls adher'd,
Which by its new found name most fitly may,
Be all all such purchasers last Golgotha.
But O the error of my whimzied brain!
Nor so, nor so, and then I look'd again,
And saw some dozen link-men spitting ptrough,
And smoak and froth from their chaf'd chapps do blow.
Drove of Surrey Hoggs.
What think you, did they push so with strong breath?
The antient Burgers of Genesareth,
Some thousand Swine, who comming neerer whin'd,
As if the Devill were in um, or behind
Elpenor chang'd, was not a goodlyer pigge,
Nor oould with these our Surry Porkers swig.
I wondered at their lights, and pompe, me thinks
It should not be alive, when dead their
Cut into sawsages.
Links
Upon no other cause, I guesse the
Certaine Jewes which had a Congrega­tion in Southwarke
Jewes
Their Temple amongst us did of late refuse,
Because of these prophane and unclean guests,
Which made them change their ceremoniall nest.
Neer to black Madges in the Paris Garden,
Bears are more clean then Swine, and so's Kate-Arden.
[Page 21] The Hoggs and Jewes are past, these to the Banck-
Side, those to them who try u'm in the Flanck.
And thus deluded in my first conceit,
I went to bed again, cover'd my feet,
And started this same Query, whe're or no,
There's any happinesse in our Bur-rough?
A noble friend of the Au­thors.
And truly honoured friend, and guest o'th legg,
I must conclude it absolute i'th Neg.
And further then the South, as said the wise one,
There's none, dear friend, not under the Horizon.
Wherefore we change the cure indeed, not state,
And our condition is, as 'twas of late.
Therefore Removers that intend, beware ye,
You will not mend your selves in our Trans-mare.
FINIS.

Hanons Escapes and Pranks.

WE have heard of Jupiters escapes,
How oft he shifted Formes, and shapes,
To bring about his lustfull rapes;
So Hanon,
As if begott of Hanon Jove,
Did all his braines, and mans lights prove,
To get so many a Remove,
As any one.
Yet did he never goe or trudge,
For Habeas Corpus to a Judge,
He knew they ow'd him an old Grudge,
Which made him
Rather to firemen to apply,
And Locksmiths his best ingenie
(Yet fear'd most things that he came nigh,
Betrayd him.)
Jove to gett Laeda swomme a swanne
And loving Mutton put Wooll on,
For he was but a Whoring man,
And rutted
Through all his Cretan Provinces,
To Vitiate his Princesses,
At any thing of comelinesse
He butted.
But Hanon was not for Love stealths,
But Robbing states, and Common-wealths,
For picking purse in drinking healths,
Or blowing
Up Locks, or Barres, or prison gates,
He could not be contrould by th' Fates,
If he came to the barrs, he sete
Them going.
[Page 23] As by Experience we know well,
At Newgate what of late befell,
Where he did shew such tricks, as hell
Cannot fellow.
For he in Prison close was laid,
And heavy Irons his leggs made
(As his bedfellow often said)
All yellow.
So that he did full sore complaine
Unto his Copesmate of his paine;
And told the man that he could gaine
His freedom,
For all those Irons, if that he
Would vow a friendly secrecy,
And sware that he should instantly
It see done.
The fellow was of nature kinde,
(For he before in's heart could find
To have two wives, as some now blind
Maintain good.
And that we may as Turks use doe
Keepe wives as many as we know,
Our 'states will serve for to allow
Drink and food.
This curteous soule connived long,
And Hanon with his Water strong,
Not Aqua vitae, did unthong
His Irons.
And every night going to bed,
He laid his cloggs under his head,
Which in the morne he fastned,
T' admire ones;
And what he did to's Iron vamps
He did toth' doore, and them unclamps,
For he for those had screwes, and cramps,
And Augurs.
[Page 24] And so releas'd himselfe one night,
From off the place farre out of sight,
All watches guards, spies in despit
And Maugre.
This was a queint device, but he
From the upper Bench had made him free;
Before this piece of knavery,
And feigned
Himselfe to be most highly loose,
Which got him freedome of the house,
And for few dayes his back doore sluce
Maintain'd—
With mellow Ale, and loosening Oile,
Which in his body kept such Coile,
That he was suffer'd oft to soyle
In open
Aire, (as they say) he'd cry, I runne,
And made as though his buttocks spunne,
But then he had a way begun
To gropen
In the back side, and the next runne
He ranne indeed out of Prison
And stayd no more, but scourd his gunne,
And Farewell
Toth' Upper Bench and lower too,
He'l come no more toth' stoole to you,
But hopes to heare, how all you doe,
And are well.
As he at leaving of his load,
Which he desires may there abode,
Untill he take againe that rode:
Which never
Was in his thoughts to come into,
H'has Busines now els where to doe,
In what he left undone, doe you
Perse-ver.
[Page 25] Thus Hanon now is free again,
And right secure, ne'er to be ta'n;
He straight is making for the main,
And sorts him
Among the Merchants for a waft.
But now for all his cunning craft,
He [...]s like to have but a poor draught,
Which a-mor [...]s him:
For as at dinner he was frolick,
He had almost the worst of all luck,
Which put him to a fit oth' Colick,
At Table.
Was one had seen him in the Prison,
And ever kept on him his eyes on,
Which made our Hanon to advise on
A Fable,
Of passing men unto Barbadoes,
He hir'd a vessell with much a-doe
And fool'd the fellow with Bravadoes,
And high-words.
But he did act his matters so,
That Hanon should him think no foe
(Although he seem'd his face to know)
By slie-words.
Then made as if he were mistook
(One man may like another look)
And so his leave abruptly took
Oth' Gallows.
And left him in his languages,
But in a trice to the Maior betrayes
This nimble Scourer of the waies,
And followes
With Officers unto his lodging:
This crafty Squ [...]re that now is dodging
Into the Water like a Gudgeon,
And took him,
[Page 26] And in the County guards him brought,
'Most to the place where once he wrought
His late escape, which ne'er he thought
To look in.
And now his noddle he doth ply,
His moneys to the guarders fly,
Newgate is even in his eye,
If once in,
He shall be ti'd both neck and heels,
They will no longer trust his wiles,
By which he every one beguiles,
They'le trounce him:
They paid full deer for his last trick,
Brisco and Turnkeys still are sick
Oth' qualmes, that this Escaper quick
Then raised.
Besides the Widowes of his friend,
That for his sake came to his end,
Thither have vow'd Hanon to send,
Amazed.
At apprehension of these things,
(Fear lent him sure and ready wings)
So from his bribed guard he flings
Most nimbly,
And into divers holes conveighs
Himselfe, and unknown waies,
And leaves the Bumkins at a gaze
Most trimly.
He knowes forewarn'd to have a care
Of comming out in common air,
Although the coast be ne're so fair;
But whither
Can Hanon go? what place hath he
Not cousen'd by his roguery?
Nor France, nor Spain, nor States are free:
For thither
[Page 27] His theevish arts have carried him.
From Holland he did lately swimme,
And did a Boor of's money skimme
Most neatly.
The story I shall now afford,
As I have heard it word forword:
'Twas done, and is upon record,
There let't [...]y.
And Hanon now my Lord appears,
Good clothes as any Lord he wears,
And as a Lord he rants and swears,
And topeth.
And at a Boores of good estate
He lodges, has his servants wait,
Two rogues that highly of him prate▪
Which mopeth
The silly Butter box, that he
Believed every History,
And thought him a man of dignity,
And manners.
Nothing he talk'd at meat or play,
But of Besse of Bohemia,
And of the French, and Spains aray,
And Banners.
So that his Lordship all commands,
The Froken waited on his hands,
And with the bason humbly stands,
And towells,
To wipe his Lordship after wash,
For which he gave the Froken cash,
And promis'd her beside a lash
O'th bowells.
He gave to her in charge a Whelpe,
Which he had stole from one at Delph:
'Twas very neat, but wanted help.
His Hoastesse
[Page 28] Must feed the puppy with a spoon,
For he intended it a Boon,
Unto the Queen. And thus in Town
He boasts.
The Whelp with all the care is fed,
A pillow for his shocked head,
And lig upon his Lordships bed
Most roundly:
For she did fill it still so full,
And husht it in her German Lull,
And made it sleep (the doting Trull)
Profoundly.
If that his Lordship went abroad
The Puppy did with her aboad,
And was not an unwelcome load
Upon her:
For she would have it in her lap,
And give it milk, and childrens pappe,
And put it in her husbands cap
For honour.
When that his Lordship did come in,
The Whelp was call'd for, must be seen,
The servants said that it had been
It'h Chamber
With his good Landlady, for which
My Lord did instantly beseech
She would his Lordships eye enrich,
To clamber
Up to her quarters, which were high,
And very full of Huswifry;
And there did Hogens Treasure lye:
He spi'd u'm,
Upon a nail a bunch of keyes,
Which he into his Poke conveighs,
And with good words the Froe betraies,
And tries u'm,
[Page 29] There took he Gelt, Argent and Or,
My Lord next day, the Court was for,
And said he'd send for's Whelp the Mor-
Row morning.
She wash'd the Curre, and trimm'd the shock,
From his round crown unto his dock,
There wanted not a vacant lock
Adorning:
Because the good Queen of Boheme
Must have it as the fool did dream,
The Puppy look'd like clouted cream,
So white 'tis.
But my Lord Hanon came no more
To see the whelpe, or the gul'd Boore,
Nor came not neer the Frokens lower
Meph [...]t [...]s.
So for all the houshold vailes,
She had her own and Puppy's tailes
As a kind Foy, while Hanon sailes
With's purchase.
But like a Slave, he'd rob'd the Queen
Of Casket, and the Plate wherein
She wash'd her feet, and left her in
A poor case.
Thus flesh'd in Royall spoiles, the gull in
Lesse then two weekes arriv'd at Colen,
And there pretended to be sullen,
Or rather
Sick with a Pox, but from those sot's
He stole the Plate, and drinking potts,
Of him the Covenanting Scots
Call Father
Of their poor Country, and so comes
Along the land of Drumms and Gunns,
And lists himselfe among the Thrums
In Flanders.
[Page 30] There on the Conquering side awhile
He serv'd the French, and did beguile
The Monsieurs of their pay (that's spoil)
And manders
They do not Antwerp take, and all,
And leave the Spaniards not a wall,
Nor yet an Ox, nor Asse, nor stall
To lye in.
Thus doth he vapour, and next day,
The Rogue to Leopold runs away,
And for the King D' Hispagnia,
Is crying.
These voices straight do mount him up,
With the Austrian Duke he dares to sup;
And to the Catholick King a Cup
He swallowes
Of rich Canary, and does vow
The death of Thurene, that kill-Cow:
And as he drinks, he knits his brow
In fallows.
The Dons intreat this gallant blade
Unto their Quarters, and there made
Him welcome, for the words he had
Protested.
But in the night, he, and his Rogues
The Spanish pockets dis-imbogues,
And out o'th' house himselfe collogues,
And rested
Not, till he came to th' English shoar,
Where he was at it as before;
He thought to have rob'd the world all o're,
But mist it.
And if he had not made this passe,
He had been hang'd up for an Asse,
Upon the tree neer old Pan-crasse,
And twisted.
FINIS.

A Letter of Hanon from Duynkyrke.

MY friends of Newgate (late so call'd)
Whither I have been often halled,
And ever by my owne witts bayled.
I doe salute you my Signiors
( Custodes of my Prison doores)
More kind to Hanon, then you Boores.
For they unto my tricks consented,
The bolts did yeeld, and barrs relented:
And not like you have yet repented.
Much trouble hath possest my heart,
About my late unknown depart,
Indeed I went out like a Fart,
Ne're to returne unto that place
We'r scapes alike, nor of like pace,
For those doe ply about your face,
Which I must not: For if Bris-co
Should smell me out, he straight would goe
Unto your Justice for a Quo—
Warrant, (as they call it) which
Would bring me forthwith, where my breech
Would be a cold, in Proverb speech.
Who would return into your Land,
To wear at last a hempen band?
Better to dy on Callice-Sand.
I know some paper hath been lost
Since my arrivall to this coast;
But the poor Ballad-makers most
Have suffered, 'cause I suffered not,
Those may supply my escaped lot,
To Paper, or to Hang, is all to th' Pot.
I would have wish'd my friend of wives
(More then the English Law connives)
Had sav'd his own with their two lives.
Hab, nab, the fool did simply choose
Two such (as brought him to a nooze)
Both which a man might gladly lose.
'Twas true, the man did love the wast,
But otherwise was vengeance chast;
No more words ont (the worst is past.)
He was no apprehensive Schollar;
Had he but been my follower,
He'd slipt his neck out of the Collar.
He was too easie to confesse,
How I did use my selfe to undresse;
I knew 'twould never come to lesse
Then swinging for't. What e'er you do
In breaking the commands, or so,
Never my friends break Proverbs too.
My Breech is now on Spanish plat,
It scarce has done its pit a patt,
It shook like any hunted Wat.
But got to shelter at Duynk [...]rk;
In that small Sanct'ary I will lurke,
And be as merry as a Turk.
Hither if you do please to send;
The charges of my Vicar friend,
Who was my proxy to the end
I shall defray, and for the blacks
That both his Wives had on their backs,
Or if that place any blews lacks;
If in new Prison they chance ly,
Or in Bridewell the beetle ply,
I will discharge all willingly.
'Tis my last asking, let them speak,
If he alone had that same Freak.
Have not they changes every week?
No doubt they have, the man was wild
To take two persons so defil'd,
To save them, cann't he get with child.
Wherefore my Banquers of mol-Friths
I charge my accounts in Faggots with
A noble for the field call'd Smiths;
In which these Widowes of small praise
(For heating others all their daies)
May have their most deserved blaze.
And thus defying every whore,
All Prisons, and the English shoar.
Vrv' Roy D' Hispagne, lets loudly roar.
Postcript.

Farewell, without behang'd.

Your most slippery-friend. HANON.
Duynkirk 31 Septemb. Styl. novo. 1655.

CHARACTERS.

The Preface. Lectori Libero.

NOne are better Geographers then such, who trusting to their own Observations, write what themselves (not Ptolomy) have discovered. Upon that reason Francis Lord Verulam is accounted amongst many a greater Phi­losopher than Aristotle, and by all then Pl [...]ny Senior, because he wrote by experience and costly tryall, more than by Books. Beliefe is good in a beginner. A sucking Mathematician may lap in Sands, Helyn, Drake, Forbi­sher, and the rest, but it is not manlik alwaies to be fed with a spoon; they must get Quadrants, Cycles, Epycicles, and rules of their own, if they will be good Carpenters; or if there be an obstacle, or prohibition in subjecto, that is at home, (disability) then let them get as good a Master as Aristotle had, and use his purse, as Sir Francis Bacon did his own. For the right forming this Character of a Prison, and some others depending thereupon, it hath been my misfortune to be upon the place (blown thither by an ill wind, and kept in by a worse) so that I have some advantage of those▪ who perchance have adventured on this subject (by the ear.) That Pencill-man who will draw to the life, must have the Lady present; a copy of her countenance is not so good. Having therefore given you to understand, that the Decipherer took the lines in full view, you may (if you finde fault) say, his Organs were neer his Object, and so wanted a convenient di­stance, that is, a remove to the Rose, or a surveigh to the three Crane Taverns. Or else, that there is some malig­nity, or vehemency in the object, which may not be al­togehter [Page 35] denyed (for the party desired to be further off) or else there is some defect in the Organ it selfe, or a gutta serena on the Optick Nerve, or else Caput malum, which is Caput malorum. In plain, that his brains were ill scituate; that is, in a Calves head, or else the time of the Moon (as indeed it was not beneficiall, being upon his re­straint in the Wane) did not serve for the augmentation of that higher Ventricle; and so (as in the decrease it is evidently to be seen) his Rabbets brains perchance, were shrivel'd up for want of the Full assistance of that sup­plying Planet.

Be it how it will, we must to our work, there is no li­ving in a Mill without grinding, and a blind horse must starve, if he cannot turn round. Take therefore free Rea­der (and in that most free, that you may chose whether you will or no) these short solaces of him, who laboured to make his Prison of Force, his retiring house of choice, his Tullianum, his Tusculanum. It will be of little or unconsiderable cost to thee, which cost the composer hot water, as they say, and burnt Wine too (thanks to the Donors) for aquae merae potoribus nihil scribitur, as saith the Gentleman of Rome, and a Poet too, who had as good Sack in his own Cellar, as my friend at the halfe Moon. And so I conclude this Preface, which if it walk abroad before its Master, let the Preface have this for his frontispice;

Hei mih [...] quod Domino, &c.

The Character of a Prison.

OMne simile non est idem. That is, for fear of misun­derstanding, every Coller is not a Devill: or by way of inference, therefore a Prison is not Hell, though there is devilish doings in it. I do rather believe (though no no red letter man, for mine is a nigrum Theta) that a Prison is Purgatory, for in it are the severall L [...]mb [...], Pa­trum Fratrum, Minorum, et Ma [...]orum, Virorum, Foe­mi [...]arum, and infantum. To be short, here are Cells (that is Wards) for all ages, sexes and provisions; and though a child cannot legally be committed▪ yet a child being Committed for in Prison, may be justly kept there (during the Mothers detention.) From the Souldier to the Monk, here are places of Discipline; a hard bed for the man of the Cowle, and hard board for the man of the Sword. The Prison yet (that we may not quite be at losse with Hell) is in some descriptions of it very much the same; as especially, from whence there is (without Herculean Friends) never like to be any redemption. It is Purgatory to its qualifications and intentions, for it clenseth your silver from your drosse, by a segregating vertue of extra­cting your money from your bodies. In this it differs from Hell, because hell gates are alwaies open. In this also it a­grees with Purgatory, that you may go in and out for your mony. It is canton'd like this last, into Limbos, viz. the Masters side, the three-penny, two-penny Wards, the hole Masculine and Faeminine (if those make two.) There is Locus in Ca [...]cere, which Sir Thomas Moor, when Erasmus drank Sack in his Cellar called by the denomination of whole-Hel: and let it go so for the Cel­lar with us. For here are evident signes of that old Tophet. In the midst of day are horrid lights▪ but not of the Sun, which to one comming out of it, makes the place as dis­mall, as a candle burning in a horses head, Sceleton in a [Page 37] dark night. The Incense of the place is worse to the Lungs, then that of Brimstone in the other. Cottidian Tobacco horrifying the twilight of the Cell, and making each man look like a Devill to a visiting friend, yet hiding our own durtinesse in his proper velope of obscurity, and naturall vizard of hot mist. The friendly Offices this Vir­ginian plant (for since the late Imbargos, we take no Spa­nish nor before) affords the constant plyars of it, are its Salves and remedy against the damps of the Cellar, where fire and water are part of the tormentors, especially when they come to be paid for. As about Bloomsbury, and the utmost parts of Westminster, they cry and sing water up and down the streets; so here, beer and smoak are sung in to the pittifull receivers, who must drop a tear before they tast, either the silver of the eye, which procures for­bearance, or else the very gold and blood of the heart, which is ready John. Here (strange to tell) we drink fire, that is, smoak, handsomer then water: for our beer is by word of mouth to one another but our fire is never out of our own mouth, nor to be participated but when we never care what becomes of it, or whither it goes. As in Hell, it is thought the Devills are the lesse tormentors; so here, our fellow Prisoners lie heaviest upon us, and are to a new commer, worse then new flies to a sore leg. The Fees of your brethren, and their expectations, or rather de­pendancies, being greater then the Jaylors. The first step to your exhausting is your Garnish, which if your pocket have not, the outward furniture of your body (be it Hat or Cloak) must supply. After this losse you may chance (by being acquainted) get somewhat, which I presume Hell is free of, it being Clibanus Maximus, that is, the fiery Oven, and it is supposed that lice do not like so hot a quarter. The severall Wards are (as it is in the place forenamed) in order of sub, & supra, that is subjection. As in the one, Murder may not have the same fiery Chair with mansslaughter; buggery not the same stool with [Page 38] Fornication, (if this be not rather a purgatory guest) nor may pocket-picking be in the nethermost pit with Sacriledge. So neither with us do the debts of the lower Forme presume to mingle with those of the higher. Round O. S. or halfe Moones, or long Megs, must not take place of Cart-wheeles, and the greater Orbs of of chalk, that is for illustration; a prisoner of forty shil­lings head must not pisse by one of five pound. And so re­spectively unto the Hole, where the Senior Collier or Brasier hath the precedency, and lies upon the Table, That being the Upper Bench, on this side the Water. Something in the hole (for it is filthy comming in, and worse getting out) is like the custome of Conjurers and Witches, who are neer of blood to the Devill. For as Necromancers are safe in their circles from the Spirits they raise up: so these sonnes of blacknesse and darknesse chalk out every night the dimension of their undisquieted lodgings, and lye in white inclosures, with never a rag over or under, which they undenyably sleep in; and that chalk is as dangerously wip'd out, as that in the Cellar. Soly in these Ivory beds our Knights of the Inner hole, as conspicuous, if you could see them, as the Knights Templars within their Iron Palisadoes in monumentall stone. And to say the truth, I know not which bodies are harder. If I were to chuse a Perdue-man for my life, I would take him forth from these Probationers. And if he lie not à nocte in noctem, as close as a Spaniell, or a Setting-Dogg, let him live on nothing but the quick provisions of his body, without the reliefe of the Almes­Basket for ever.

The whole place may be aptly called, a diminutive Babel, where are all Tongues spoken by persons in as great a confusion; every one is a builder, and every one ruin'd; lime, sand, and stone, in these words are every day call'd for, viz. the Interest, the Principle, and Secu­rity: these are spoken, not understood and reply'd to. [Page 39] Here the Spaniard and the French lie lovingly together, and (whatever they do abroad) without the Popes inter­positions, are very well agreed. The Dutch and English tipple stoutly, and not a word here of Amboyna. Butter and Bacon being the great losse on the German side, and twelve shillings a Barrell with excise the joint griefe of them both. Want of measure, and a scanted Summer, makes Van Helmont look, as if Duked' Alva were rose from a jugg pot to torment the Netherlands again. Methinks when I see this Petite barrell of Hidleberge draining the Cellar of all its inundations, it puts me in mind, that the Contractors for the Fens in Lincolnshire, are in a possibility of more curses then ever; that is, that the work may go on. So then, the Epitome of the Uni­verse is a Prison. It is the All-Nation Office without a mistake. It is the Babel, not of dispersion, but collection, and from all corners of the earth we meet in the hole. It is an Ark of men, not of beasts: a Cage, not of birds, unlesse of Tom Browns, and yet all these are taken. It is (to conclude) a net, but not of fish, unlesse some sharks may nominate the whole. The Characteristicall Coun­sell for this place is taken from a Grammar example.

Redime te captum, quam queas minimo. Spend little, either in foolish words, or vain expences, and you will have the more for your creditors in the latter direction, and he will have the lesse against you in the first. So fare­well to the Character of the place, I would I could say so to the place it selfe.

A Serjeant.

A Serjeant is in one respect a Gentleman, for he wears a Man, or rather a Yeoman, a creature of a Spa­niell kind, who is at a rate to fetch and carry, when he hath found, he spits in his mouth at the charge of the creditor, and dammage of his prey, which he mumbles [Page 40] more roughly, then a water-Dogge a Duck. They are men-setting-doggs, and are as oft beaten as rewarded. The two Counters are their Asylum and refuge▪ where the Sheriffe is their Romulus: For those walls like his, must not be leapt over. In his own life he is a Libertine, and denies it to all others: sixe daies in the week are for his own use, but the seventh he hateth, because of his own resting, and not arresting: Nothing on that day is a more deadly sight to him, than a prey, that he in vain waited for on Saturday: He curses no Acts but one (and that was the most noble) of spoyling his sport on Sundaies. Howsoever he may seem to the publick Government, for you may mark him back and breast like a City Coach, he is an hypocrite, for he hath two faces, that is, his Yeoman, and his own; then he hath two carriages, one in his mouth, and another in his hand; he arrests you in the name of O. P. and out of hand with the mace of C. R. His Coat is party quartered, with the Harp and Crosse on the outside, and the Lyon, and Luces in the inside, without a Christo auspice to this, or Honi Soit, or God with us to the other. His station is much like that of Wisdomes (in the Proverbs) in the corners of the streets, where if he catch his prey, he is straight-way upon the top of the house. His first device, after his ar­rest, is his prisoners credit, which for a while he will smother, in some smoaky house neer his Counter, which is all a Prison, but the name, and for the nature of it more unmercifull. Having hous'd you (for then he hath a hundred businesses) he leaves you to his man leech (the Yeoman) who is to suck you till the blood comes, and pumpe each side of you, to know what waters your poc­kets draw, if he finde your silver sucker out of case, and that you have no mettall men to mend it (that is a friend at Maw) he is in such hast to go to his Serjeant, as if the Devill drove him. In short, they will after a five shillings draining of Sack, be in plain tearmes with you, and [Page 41] for seven shillings a day, give you leave to lodge a spit and a stride of the Counter, which is the cheaper lodging of the two, and the lesse offensive, by the want of their society. In what Schooles of inhumanity they have been bred, I know not, but I conceive u'm to be in tuition to the fallen Angells, who with their own integrity, have put off all love to mankind. Their Ambuscadoes and blind staires are no lesse incentives to cruelty, being commonly sculking holes about the But­chers at all the barrs, or in Beast-markets, where with their brother Drovers, they drink till their own markets call them away. He is only qualified in Rose-Wine not water, and love the miter for the Sacks sake: souc'd perchance in a charge­able pickle, you shall have him more man, and reasonable when he is dead drunk, and out of his senses. Then, and then only, the Yeoman is Master, by the politick distance of his place, kept sober against his will: But for the unmercifull usage of the next man, it were good to make man like Master, and so adventure an escape (if you could) into Prison, and leave them for the reckoning: It would confound them in their hair-brain'd search more, then if they met the creditor that feed u'm, who with two brethren of their own coat, will bring them (if they have good fortune) at once to the prison, and their bail their own Prisoners To conclude the men are of Gods making, and their own marring, their Office per­missive for a time till Doomsday, which they love, for the reason abovesaid, alike with Sunday, because it puts an end to all arrests; then perchance they may find the mercy of the Superiour Jayle, and the kind Officers thereof, who will put them into the hole (if it will hold u'm) where they shall feed upon the fragments and almes-basket of old Nick, and have hot dyet for their old charity in s [...]cula seculorum.

A Character of a true Friend.

AMicus certus in rein certa cernitur. Is a [...]re friend to a fast friend In one who visits you in prison, & labours to helpe you out: spends more money then sighs, is sorry for your misfortune, but more sorry for his owne, that he should not alone be able to doe all for you. Hates super faetation in Cur­tesies [Page 42] as in conceptions: which makes him a Pythagorean to the story of your mischance, for feare of the danger of Scoggins wifes tale, which made a secret the fable of the whole Townes.

He doth untie his purse for you, and bind himselfe. He gives Physick of two natures, Opening as to your person which by his security he unlocks. And Lenitives and Domulsives to your Creditors. He is his friends Icon Antopsicon, the m r. h r and looking lasse whereby he dresses himselfe, and makes addresses to others, nay, his eyes too, whereby he lookes a­broad. He is the Clubbe and the Hercules, his rescuer and defender his Lyons skinne to inwrapp him, and the Pillars to prop him. He is a Crowne▪ not of Thornes, to his Deare head. The Oyle, not Vinegar to his wound. He is more practise then Counsell, more Samaritan then Levite, more learning then Scribe. He is in his person a Physitian, in his practise a Christian. The second Edition of Religio Medici, and the first of Practise of Piety. He is true beyond the Oath of Hippocra­tes, and takes not only care for the Bene esse, or state of your body, but your personall state. He is a Civilian in Galens capp, a Littleton with an Urinall. He gives a Glyster to the Law, when it is too costive, and he lets it blood before the Calenture of an Execution. He is Galenus, as to his dat opem and dat opes, which is all one with him, hee gives both Dose and Fee. Hee is Justinian in his civill respect and honour of you. Hee is of all you but bones, which hee will take off, though he shackle himselfe.

His Originals are è familia Redemptionis: and his rise and procedure of the house of Medices.

Uivas ut per te alii vivant,
vt ego valeam vale.
Scr [...]ptum in personaunius ad plurimos magni (licet hic nullius) nominis Medicos.

A Friend in a Corner, or helplesse Friend.

IS one of a just and true Sympathy, yet wants the Powder, who feeles the wound he cannot search, he does not make scurvy faces, and worse shruggs, and say hee is under a vow, [Page 43] (that is, to doe no good for any man) but inwardly mourns, and condemnes that condition▪ which himselfe cannot helpe to those that can: He prayes for all prisoners and captives, but hath not so done with them. Most men will turne them over to God, but he doth not leave u'm till by Gods stewards hee have recommendation from heaven. He is too pittifull to censure, and so let his judgements devoure his mercy: he lookes upon the misery, not the meanes, how it came about, upon the wounded man, and does not condemne him for riding without a sword, or losing his way or his company He is afraid in that, of being a greater robber then the Thiefs, to take away reputation is higher felony then to steal clothes, or pick a purse: He is a friend in a corner in earnest, for hee dare not shew his head in the Street: he dare fight the whole Serjeantry and yeomanry in the open [...]ield, but is afraid to meet a man of these in the Citty. He is a Sunday visiter and prayes all the weeke, hee is indeed (except the place) your fel­low prisoner for six dayes, and onely bayl'd on the first day of the weeke. He is heartily sorry for you, and in feare for him­self, that that one day (wherein hee may serve you) may be taken from him. Hee is the goad of the fatt Bulls of our Basan, and the whipp to the D [...]ll friendship of the Age, which he drives only upon that day, when all other markets are not suffer'd. He is in a corner too really of his friends heart, whence it is a impossible to remove him, as for the other to remove his affection. So that imprison'd to each other (more then for another) they are mutually bound to another, though not for, and stand ingaged Soule for Soule, though not body for body.

Farewell till we come to light.

Certaine Quaeries, very usefull in their re­solve [...], and Antidoticall to those in Prison.

WHether Joseph, Paul and other holy men before or af­ter their Imprisonments might owe any money or no?

Aff. For Joseph, it is very probable he did, or else hee was shrewd put to it, for his Brethren tooke away his Coat from off his back, and those who would doe so, would not leave [Page 44] him one penny in his purse; then they sold him to the Ishmaelites for money, but it is not expressed that they gave him one farthing of the purchase, so that it is plaine, that he was in a borrowing condition. Now the sonne of a Patriarch would not steale, nor should the seed of the faithfull begge their bread; quid medium? then he must needs borrow and if borrow, owe, and ( rebus sic stantibus) is not able to pay.

Secondly he was a Divine, which is a vates originally, and to this very day that Tribe hath little or no chink.

Thirdly, Questionlesse the Butler and Baker both lent him money, for he would not sell Gods gift of Divination as some doe, and make a Trade of Nativities, (a guift not of the same Doner.) Then by the event of that exposition of their Dreams. He desired the Butler to remember him when the effects of his augury made him great, which re­membrance was not for nothing.

4. All Commentators do conclude, that the afflictions of Joseph, that is the Church, and adherents to it, are many, but want of mony a chief one.

5. Jeremiah was in such want, that he had not bread to put in his head. And El [...]ah was so put to it for sustenance, that a Raven, was sent to feed him: it falls out contrary with me, whom two black-Coats endeavour to starve.

6. Paul was in debt, and for a Brother bound body for body ( vide locum) and paid the money, and sued not the Counter-bond.

7. Peter confessed openly, Silver and Gold have I none. Now 'tis a Catholick and Primitive quality (ever before Usu­ry came into the Church, and the power of lending) to want mony.

Now first may be replyed, 'tis just to lend, and as just to have ones own again▪ The mercifull man lendeth, that is, freely (Brother) not with interest. The wicked borroweth, and payeth not again (a hard piece of Psalm that.)

Answer▪ to pay, is either punctuall and precise, which is called in Scriveners phrase, Keep touch, that is, to a day; Or it is large, and at long run (a word now obsolet, and out of the Notaries understanding, especially good liking) it was in the Primitive times, When God shall enable me, as fast as [Page 45] industry, and ingenious waies shall accommodate him. In this latter and more liberall sense, every one must pay his debts, or else he is an Infidell; but for the circumstance of the day, vide Rob. Randall, in Epigram de Aere alieno.

Vid. Censuram Imperat. Justin. de Imposs.
Nec Caesari, nec Alexandro licebit numerare
Pecuniam, ante receperint ( haec sufficiunt.)

Quaerie the second.

Whether one Christian may arrest another, as is usual in New and Old England. Aff. As to my selfe, there is evidentia facti, it is done, nor will I dispute the fieri debuit of it. Let the Creditors examine their own & my necessities, and judge of the equality.

First, I say, (and yet it is not observed) that in Turky, under an Anti-Christian Prince, it is contra-Apostolick counsel to do so.

Now we are all Christians, (God be thanked) and fellow sufferers (God be praised) and may sue one another to the end of the Chapter.

But all generall rules have some exception. Therefore in case thy Brother be not worth a groat, throw no more mony away upon him.

2. If he desire mercy, shew as little as you can, because as you mete, so it shall be measured to you.

3. Take heed of your supposed friend, the Gaol, lest that which you imagine is your politick compulsory for the debt, do not poyson the debtor, and so actio moritur cum persona. that is a habeas Corpus that will exanimate a creditor. But to prevent such a Ghostlinesse in mine, I remov'd to better air, that I might so preserve my selfe to be their fast friend: Wherefore in such a case take somewhat, and work not for a dead horse.

4. In New England, if your estate will reach to it, you must pay as far as it will go, take what you can finde after eight years sequestration, there is scarce a sweep left for a Kite.

5. In old England they make over their Estates to defraud [Page 46] their Creditors. The Estate I had was an Office ( durante vitâ) would he were whipp'd that made it over.

6. I but your wife may have something (God forbid else) but there's a reason for that, before this of Creditors, the provisons of so neer a relation (not being counted cheats) but Law, and Joyntures, and Matrimoniall settlements (even in his duris temporibus) have escaped others-gate clutches, then Creditors. In fine, all Casuists count it lawfull, under the arrest of two friends, to be his Wives Almes-man, his Creditors day-labourer; that is, to keep your selfe from stir­ring in the first place: and in the next to discharge a good conscience to others. So I do arrest this question, and for the present lay it up with me in Superiori (ut loquuntur) Banco.

Querie the third.

WWhether it is more proper or convenient to a Prisoner to sing Psalmes, or drinke Sack? Ad partes.

I say first, the Query was ill put, and it was ill done to put any difference betwixt Sack and Psalmes, the two great cordialls and consolatories of human necessities should be kept in inviolable friendship, they are like man and wife, not to be separated under a curse (nay not in Prison these) This indeed (beyond Saint Pauls dispensation) does without mutuall consent, restrain, and interpose betwixt those in­closed pairs: But by Psalmes they sing themselves together, and by Sack keep up the tune. Now whether the Hymn should precede, or the Hymenaeal, there's the point. Where­fore to reconcile these two seeming different Sisters, like the two Universities, I will say only this. Distingue tempora et summus eris, &c. as the Schoole saies, In sensu diviso, non composito.

As for example. Before the Sermon, even in a Prison, and so after, a Psalm is most proper, though Sack to the Minister (for spirituall Corroboration) is very comfortable, both be­fore and after, if it exceed not the Church-Wardens pinte.

But if the Prisoner came lately from his obdurate Creditor, or be in the Collar, or at his short commons, then to call the Psalme of All people, were the next way to leave the poor [Page 47] man never a bit. Therefore I doe most peremptorily conclude, that a Psalm is not any way needfull at such a time, or a very long Grace, for fear of a neighbour thief with a shorter. Sack then (if you had it) is most proper, and according to the rules of Physick, very disgestive: but we prescribe rules, not mony, you must recipe of that Q. S. e'en where you please. And for your Apothecary, we come in again, go to the Mi­ter, the halfe Moon, Sun, or the Devill, if it be not too chargeable with a waiter to go so farre.

According to the practice of that admirable Physician, Doctor Butler, and prime Grobian of that faculty, and the Sectaries of that opinion, there is hardly any room for Psalmes, at any time of the day: For ter in Die (that is quo­tidie) Sack is prescribed, that is, ante caenam (which we render according to our English way of eating) before dinner: Then in ipso prandio, that is in the moment of dinner, though not in the moment of eating, unlesse you eat, more Senatorio, like an Alderman, and then you may put Sack into Custards and mince Pies; or else more bonorum soc. and so put Claret into your Surloyn of Beef, and so the case varies. Then third­ly, which is the summe of all the businesse, and (unto which few Prisoners can arrive) it is allowed, and perpetuall proba­tum upon it, that Sack (without Falstaffs discovery of Lime in it) is to be taken post prandium likewise, without limitation; 'tis Putlers case, and I will not contend in Sack with so eminent a Doctor.

I shall not make any long and tedious decision of this scruple (having at this time a cold) which makes me unca­pable of balling or singing either, and requires more appo­sitely some butter'd Sack. But notwithstanding I shall not be sway'd in deteriorem partem in my conclusion, by any personall partiality, and bodily inclinations. I say therefore, as it was answered to me, scrupling, whether he should best call the Lords day (for that name did not relish him) Sabba­oth or Sabboth? friend, you may Say-both. So as for Sack and Psalms, sing not the 119 Psalm, for that is too long a conscience, unlesse thou art arrested for the Hebrew Al­phabet. Nor drink a Runlet of Sack, unlesse thy grief be so bigge, that thou must venter to break thy belly, or thy heart will break.

[Page 48] The wisest of Kings allowed Sack to a sad heart, even to a very plentifull dose, for he advises to drink untill a man forget his sorrow, which will hardly be done by a halfe pint.

A little wine is prescribed in the person of Timothy to the whole Clergy, so that wine taken in a moderate way (not so uberiously as to quarrells, talking of Divinity beyond our capacity, or going into the houses of the women in the streets) is Canonicall.

Psalmes are as authentick by the practise of Paul and Si­las, who by that rare Church Musick (for they knew not Hopkins and Sternhold) sung themselves out of the Prison, & the Prison into a Church, which the singing Psalmes of our daies do not bring about. But this younger Sister of single vowes hath sung out that elder of Instruments. So that to sing Psalmes with Paul and his Brother S [...]las is not permit­ted to any Prisoners now, those extraordinary gifts ceasing with their persons, and but for a time residing on them­selves, for the time came when Paul under the persecution of Nero sung his own Dirge, and so to execution.

To conclude to my fellow-Prisoners, of Psalmes you may have plenty, use more of them, of Sack you seldome have e­nough, use lesse; but of every lift of the hand to the head, have an I lift my heart to thee, and it is well enough: When you are in the midst of your mirth, forget not that you must re­turn to sit down by the waters of Babylon; and if you would have lesse of Meribah, drink lesse of the Merum: But drink some, something proportionable to the allay of your con­dition, for fear your turning wholly Rechabites (refusers of the Creature-comfort) should lapse into Ichabods, and die the sonnes of desperate sorrow and disconsolation: which Deus avertat, and so I put an end to these Queries, would I could as soon to your Ceremonies.

FINIS.

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