All the Workes of John Taylor the Water-Poet
ALL THE WORKES
OF JOHN TAYLOR
THE WATER POET.
Beeing 63 in Number.
Collected into one Volume
By the AUTHOR
With sundry new Additions, corrected, revised,
and newly IMPRINTED.
PUBLISHED BY J.B
PUBLISHED FOR James Boler
COnfusion, Horror, Terror, dreadfull Wars,
Demesticke, for raigne, inward, outward Iars,
Shafts shot at Juda in Ie ovahs ire,
Infectious plague, war, famine, sword, and fire,
Depopulation, desolation, and
The fivall conquest of old Jacobs Land.
These are the Theames my mournfull Muse rehearses,
These are the grounds of my lamenting Verses.
Josephus wrote these things in ample wise,
Which thus briefly doe Epitomize:
Which worthy Author in large scope relates
His Countries alterations, and estates.
The Bookes of his Antiquities doe tell,
How oftentimes th'arse, how oft they fell,
How oft God favour'd them, how oft his frowne
From height of greatnes cast them headlong down,
The Seventh booke of his Warres declareth plaine,
How Roman Conquest did the Kingdome gaine,
How death did tyrannize in sundry [...]apes,
In sword, in fire, in famine, and in R [...]e.
Who loves to reade at large, let him reade [...] is,
Who likes compendious briefes, let him read this.
Since Hebers sonnes the Country first enjoyde,
Sixe times it hath beene wasted and destroyde,
Twice three times spoyld, and thirteen times in all,
Wars force, or Composition made it thrall,
Compare all wars, that chanc'd since the Creation,
They all are nothing to their desolation;
No story, or no memory describes
Calamity to match old Isr'els Tribes:
For if each Land the bloody broyles recount,
(To them) 'twere but a mole-hill to a Mou t:
All which (for sin) in the Almighties fury
Was heap'd upon the sinfull Land of Jury:
And almost sixteene hundred winters since
Did great Vespasian, Romes Imperiall Prince,
With brave young Titus, his stout valiant son,
Judeaes King dome spoyle and overrun.
And with an Army Royall, and renound,
They did Jerusalem beleaguer round.
With force, with stratagems, with warlike powers,
With Rams, with Engines, scaling ladders, Towres,
With all the Art of either might or sleight,
The Romanes upon each advantage wait.
Whil'st the besieged, that within did dwell,
Amongst themselves to fell sedition fell;
"Like neigh'bring bavins, lying neere each other,
"One burnes, and burning each one burne another;
So did the Jewes each other madly kill,
And all the streets with their slayne corpses fill.
Eleazer, Simon, John, all disagree
And rend Jerusalem in pieces three.
These each contending who should be the chiefe,
(More then the Romans) caus'd their Cou~tries griefe.
John scorn'd Eleazer should be his superior,
And Eleazer thought John his inferior;
And Simon scornd them both, and each did scorne
By any to be rul'd, or overborne;
The Citty sundred thus in triple factions,
Most horrid, bloody, and inhumane actions
Were still committed, all impieties,
(In sundry sorts of vile varieties)
All sacrilegious and ungodly acts
Were counted Noble meritorious facts.
They striv'd each other to surpasse in evill,
And labor'd most, most how to serve the Devill.
These men, of grace and goodnesse had no thought,
But daily, madly 'gainst each other fought.
They hurly burly all things overturn'd,
Their store-houses with victuals down they burn'd,
With hearts more hard then Adamantine rocks,
They drailed Virgins by the Amber locks;
The Reverend Aged they did rend and teare
About the streets by snowie ancient haire;
Yong Infants, some their harmlesse braines dash out,
And some on points of Launces borne about,
That 'tis not possible to write with pen,
The barb'rous outrage of these devillish men:
For they (unmindfull of the Romane force)
Themselves did waste & spoyle without remorce.
Their cruel slaughters made their furious foes
Relent and weepe, in pitty of their woes,
Whil'st they (relentlesse Villaines) voyde of pitty
Consume, and ruinate their Mother-Citty.
The Channels all with purple gore o'rflowde,
The streetes with murdred carkasses were strowde:
The Temple with unhallowed hand defilde,
Respect was none, to age, sexe, man, or childe;
Thus this three-headed, hellish multitude
Did waste themselves, themselves themselves subdude,
Whil'st they within still made their strength more weak,
The Roman Rams th'opposed walls did break:
Whose dreadfull battry, made the Citty tremble,
At which the Factious all their powers assemble,
And all together (like goods friends) unite
And 'gainst their foes they sally forth and sight.
"Like a swolne River, bounded in with banks
"Opposed long, with Pike-like Reedy Ranks,
"At last th'ambitious torrent breaks his bounds,
"And overruns whole Lordships, and confounds
"The living and the livelesse, that dares bide
"The fury of his high-insulting pride.
Even so the Jewes from out the Citty venter'd,
And like a s ood the Romane Army enter'd,
O'rwhelming in their desp'rate madnesse all
That durst withstand them, or assault the wall.
They set the fearefull Engines all on fire,
And bravely fighting made their foes retire;
The battell done, back came these hare-braind men,
And each the others foe devide agen.
Pell mell confusion, then againe began,
All order straight unto disorder ran;
Their corne and victuals, all consum'd with fire,
Their hunger-starved bodies 'gin to tire,
Provision in a moment, spoyld and wasted,
Which kept (might well) for many yeeres have lasted.
Then Famine, like a Tyrant roames and rages,
Makes faint (yet furious) havock of all ages,
The rich, the poore, the old, the young, all dyes,
All starv'd, and fleshlesse bare Anatomies,
This was a plague of plagues, a woe of woes,
On every side their death did them inclose,
But yet the manner how to lose their breaths,
Did more torment them then an host of deaths.
To sally forth, the Romanes shed their blood,
To stay within, they starve for want of food,
And if they would goe forth, the gates were shut,
And if they staid within, their throats were cut:
That if they stay, or goe, or goe, or stay,
Th'are sure to meet destruction every way;
But of all torments, hunger is the worst,
For through the stony walls (they say) 'twill burst;
These people with warre, woe, and want, beset,
Did strive how they might to the Romanes get,
They hopde to finde more mercy in their swords,
Then their still-dying famisht state affords.
Mans wit is sharpest when he is opprest,
And wisedome (amongst evils) likes the least.
They knew Vespasian for a Noble foe,
And one that did not glory in their woe,
They thought it best his lemency to try,
And not immurde with hungry famine dye.
Resolved thus (dispairing in their hopes)
A number slyding downe the walls with ropes,
Fled unto Tytus, who bemoand their case,
Relieving them, and tooke them to his Grace.
Thus forty thousand neere with famine strav'd,
Were all unhop'd for, by their f [...]s preserv'd
The Cittie Soldiers search'd each house to see
Where any victuals might convayed be,
And if they any found, they thought it fit
To beat the owners for concealing it.
But if they saw a man looke plumpe and fat,
His throat they presently would cut for that,
They thought him too much pampered too well fed,
And to save meat and drinke, they strike him dead.
Some men and women, Rich and Nobly borne,
Grave all they had for one poore strike of corne,
And hid themselves and it below the ground,
In some close vault they at the same unground.
If any could get flesh, they eat it raw,
The stronger still, the weakest overawe,
For hunger banisht naturall respect,
It made the husband his owne wife reject,
The wife doth snatch the meat from out his hand
Which would and should hir love and life co~mand.
All pitty from the Mother was exilde
She teares and takes the victuals from her Childe,
The Childe doth with the Parents play the thiefe,
Steales all their food, and lets them pine in griefe.
Nor Free or Bond-man,Fathers, nor yet Mothers,
Wives, Husbands, servants, masters, sisters, brothers,
Propinquitie or strong Affinitie,
Nor all the rights of Consanguinitie,
No Law, or Rule, or Reason could beare sway,
Where strength co~mands, there weaknes must obey.
The pining servant will no master know,
The son his father will no duty show,
The Commons did no Magistrate regard,
Each one for one, and but for one he carde,
Disordred, like the cart before the horse,
All rev'rence and respect did yeeld to force.
These Miscreants with vigilance all watch'd
Where they could see a doore, or lock'd or latch'd,
There they supposd the people were at meat,
And in their outrage ope the doores they beat,
Where entring, if they found them feeding fast,
From out their throats they teare the meat in haste,
Halfe eaten, halfe uneaten, they constraine
The wretched people cast it up againe.
They halde them by the eares the house about,
To force them bring supposed victuals out;
Some by the thumbs hang'd up, some by the toes,
Some prick'd with bodkins, some with many blows
Tormented were, to force them to reveale
Meat, when they had not any to conceale.
Now all was fish that fell into the net,
And all was food that fraud or force could get;
Grasse; hay, barke, leaves of trees, and Dogs, and Cats,
Toads, frogs, wormes, snailes, flies, maggots, mice and rats,
All filthy stinking and contagious rootes,
The cover of their Coaches, shooes, and bootes.
All vermine, and the dung of fowles and beasts,
Were these poore wretches miserable feasts;
Things loathsome to be nam'd in time of plenty,
Amongst the f am'd distressed Jewes were dainty.
This famine ran beyond all Natures bounds,
All motherly affection it confounds,
No blood or birth, with it compassion won,
It forc'd a Woman kill her onely Son,
She rip'd him and dis-joynted lim from lim,
She drest, she boyld, she broyld, and rosted him,
She eat him, she inter'd him in her wombe,
She made his births place his untimely tombe.
From her (by Nature) did his life proceed,
On him (unnaturall) she her selfe did seed,
He was her flesh, her sinews, bones and blood,
She (eating him) herselfe, herselfe made food.
No wee her miserie can equallize,
No griefe can match her sad calamities,
The Soldiers smelt the meat and straight assemble,
Which whe~ they saw (with horror) made the~ tre~ble
Each one with staring haire, and ghastly looke,
Affrighted, and amaz'd, the house forsooke
This horride action, quickly overcame
These men, whom force of man could never tame.
Thou that dost live like to a fatted Brawne,
And cramst thy guts as long as thou canst yawne,
Thou that dost eat and drinke away thy time,
Accounting Gluttony a God, no Crime,
Thou must have Fowle as high as heau'n that pearc'd
And hast the bowels of the Ocean search'd,
And from all places neere so farre re ote,
Hast dainties for thy all-devouring throat,
Whose pamperd paunch ne'r leaves to feed & quaff,
Till it be made a Hogs trogh, fill'd with draff.
Thinke on Jerusalem amidst thy Riot,
Perhaps 'twill move thee to a temp'rate diet.
And you brave Dames, adorn'd with Iems, & Jewels,
That must have Cawdles, Cullisses and Grewels,
Conser 's and Marchpanes, made in sundry shapes,
As Castles, Towres, Horses, Beares and Apes,
You, whom no Cherries like your lick rish tooth,
But they must be a Pound a pound forsooth,
Thinke on Jerusalem amidst you glory,
And then you'le be lesse dainty, and more sorry.
What there availd their beauty, strength, or riches,
(Three things which all the spacious world bewitches
Authoritie and Honor help'd them not,
Wrong trod downe Right, and Justice was forgot,
Their greatest, chiefest, only earthly good
Was ('twas no matter how they g t it) Food.
One little piece of bread they reckond more
Then erst they did of bags of Gold before,
One scrap, which full fed corps away doe ling,
With them, had bin a ransom for a Kin.
The lothsome garbadge which our Dogs refuse
Had bin a dish of state amongst the Jewes.
Whilst Famine playd the Tyrant thus within,
The Romane Army striv'd the walls to win,
Their Enginers, their Pioners and all
Did mine and atter, and assault the wall.
Ierusalem had three strong walls of stone,
And long 'twas ere the Romans could get one,
The dearth and death of sword and famine spred
The streets, that living trod upon the dead,
And many great mens houses full were fill'd
With carkases, which the seditious kill'd:
That with the stench of bodies putrifide,
A number numberles of people dyde.
And buriall to the dead they yeelded not,
But where they fell, they let them stinke and rot,
That plague, and sword, and famine, all three strove
Which should most bodies fro~ their soules remove.
Unsensible of one anothers woes,
The Soldiers then the liveles corpses throwes
By hundreds and by thousands o're the walls,
Which when the Romans saw their dismall falls
They told to Titus, which when he perceiv'd
He wept, and up t'ward heau'n his hands he heav'd,
And called on GOD to witnes with him this,
These slaughters were no thought, or fault of his.
Those wretches that could scape from out the City,
Amongst their foes found oth reliefe and pity.
If the seditious any catch that fled,
Without remorse they straitway strook him dead.
Another misery I must unfold,
A many Jewes had swallow'd store of gold,
Which they supposd should help them in their need
But from this treasure did their a e proceed.
For being by their en'mies fed and cherisht,
The gold was cause that many of them perisht;
Amongst them all, one poore unhappy creature
Went privatly to doe the need; of Nature,
And in his Ordure for the Gold did looke,
Where being by the straggling soldiers tooke,
They ript him up and searcht his maw, to finde
What Gold or Treasure there remain'd behind.
Arm'd Men and Chariots in the Ayre assembled,
The pondrous Earth, affrighted, quak'd, & trembled,
A voyce cride in the Temple, to this sence,
Let us depart, let us depart from hence.
These supernat'rall accidents, in summe.
Foretold some fearefull judgement was to come:
But yet the Jewes accounted them as toyes,
Or scarcrow bugg beares to fright wanton oyes,
Secure they revell'd in Jerusalem
They thought these signes against their foes, not them
But yet when [...] and death had all perform'd,
When ruine, spoyle, & furious flames had storm'd,
Who then the desolated place had seene,
Would not have knowne there had a Citty beene.
Thus Juda and Jerusalem all fell,
Thus was fulfill'd what Christ did once foretell,
Sad deseletion, all their joyes bereft,
And one stone on another was not left.
Now Monsieur Coriat, let them laugh that wins,
For I assure ye now the game begins.
is wondrous strange how your opinions vary,
[...]m judgement, sence or reason so contrary;
at with infamous rash timerity,
m raile at me with such severity,be broadfac'd
lefts that other men put on you,
[...]take for favours well bestow'd upon you.
sport they give you many a pleasant cuffe,
[...] no mans lines but mine, you take in snuffe.
hich makes the ancient Proverbe be in force,
at some may with more safety steale a horse,
Then others may looke on: for still it falls.
The weakest alwayes must goe to the walls.
I need no: use this Etymology,
My plainer meaning to exemplifie;
Which doth induce me to expresse the cause,
That my untutor'd Pen to writing drawes.
Be it to all men by these presents knowne,
That lately to the world was p ainely showne,
In a huge volume Gogmagoticall,
In Verse and Prose, with speech dogmaticall,
Thy wondrous Travels from thy native home,
How Odly out thou went'st, and Odly ome.
And how, as fitted best thy Workes of worth,
The rarest Wits thy Booke did usher forth.
But I alas, to make thy fame more fuller,
Did lately write a Pamphlet Call'd the Sculler;
In which, as unto others of my friends,
I sent to the (brave Monsieur) kind commends,
Which thou in double dudgeon tak'st from me,
And vow'st, and swor'st, thou wilt revenged be.
The cause, I heare, your fury flameth from,
I said, I was no duncecombe,coxcombe Tom:
What's that to you (good Sir) that you should fume,
Or rage, or chase, or thinke I durst presume
To speake, or write, that you are such a one?
I onely said, that I my selfe was none.
Yet Sir, I'l be a Cockscombe
if so please you,
If you are overladen,
Sir, I'l ease you,
Your store of witlesse wisdome in your budget,
To give your friend a little never grudge it.
Nor that from Odcombs towne I first began,
Nor that I greeke or Latine gabble can.
I am no Odcombe Tom, why, what of that?
Nor nothing but baro English can I chat.
I pray what wrong is this to you good Sur?
Your indignation why should this incurre?
Nor that I thought our Land had spent her store,
That I need visit Venice for a whore;
Which (if I would) I could make neerer proofes,
And not (like you) so farre to gall my hoofes.
I said, if such a volume I should make,
The rarest wits would scorne such paines to take,
At my returne, amidst my skarrecrow totters,
To runne before me like so many trotters.
I know, my merits never will be such,
That they should deigne to honour me so much.
I further said, I envied not your state,
For you had nothing worthy of my hate.
In love, your innocence I truly pitty,
Your plentious want of wit seemes wondrous wittie.
Your vertue cannot breed my hatefull lothing,
For what an asse were I, to hate just nothing?
Your vice I bare not, neither, I protest,
But love, and laugh, and like it like the rest.
Your vice, nor vertue, manners, nor your forme,
Can breed in me fell envies hatefull worme.
I said it was a lodging most unfit,
Within an idle braine to house your wit.
Here, I confesse, my fault I cannot hide.
Lately to the world did send a whore,
And she was welcom, though she was but poore,
And being so, it did most strange appeare
That poverty found any welcome here,
But when I saw that many Rich men sought
My whore, & with their coyne her freedome bought,
I mus'd, but as the cause I out did ferrit
I found some Rich in Purse, some poore in merit,
Some earned Schollers, some that scarce could spell:
Yet all did love an honest whore, right well,
Twas onely such as those that entertain'd her,
Whilest scornfull Kuaves, & witlesse Fooles disdain'd her.
Now to defend her harmelesse Innocence,
I send this Thiefe to be her Just defence:
Against all truemen,and I'l undertake
There are not many that dare answer make.
Then rowze my Muse, be valiant, and be briefe,
Be confident, my true and constant Thiefe;
Thy trade is scartred, universally;
Throughout the spacious worlds Rotundity,
For all estates and functions great and small,
Are for the most part Thieves in generall,
Excepting Millers, Weavers, Taylers, and
Such true trades as no stealing understand.
Thou art a Thiefe (my Booke) and being so
Thou findst thy fellowes wheresoev'r thou goe:
Birds of a feather still will hold together,
And all the world with thee are of a feather:
The ods is, thou art a Thiefe by nomination,
And most of men are Thieves in their vocation.
Thou neither dost cog, cheat, steale, sweare orlye,
Or gather'st goods by false dishonesty,
And thou shalt live when many of the Crue
Shall in a Halter bid the world Adue.
And now a thought into my minde doth fall,
To prove whence Thieves have their originall:
I finde that Iupiter did watonly
On Maya get a sonne call'd Mercury,
To whom the people oft did acrifice,
Accounting him the God of Merchandize:
Of Eloquence, and rare invention sharpe,
And that he first of all devis'd the Harpe.
The God of Tumbless, Iuglers, fooles and Jesters,
Of Thieves and fidlers that the earth bepesters,
Faire Venus was his Sister, and I finde
He was to her so much unkindely kinde,
That hee on her beg at Her ,
As Ouid very wittily doth write:
His wings on head and heeles true Emblems bee,
How quick he can invent, how quickly flee:
By him are Thieves inspirde, and from his gift
They plot to steale and run away most swift:
In their conceits and fleights, no men are sharper,
Each one as nimble-finger'd as a Harper.
Thus Thieving is not altogether base,
But is descended from a lofty Race.
Moreover every man, himselfe doth show
To be the Sonne of Adam, for wee know
He stole the Fruit, and ever since his Seed,
To steale from one another have agreed.
Our Infancy is Theft, 'tis manifest
Wee crie and Rob our Parents of their Rest:
Our Childehood Robs us of our Infancy,
And youth doth steale out childehood wantonly:
Then Manhood pilfers all our youth away,
And middleage our Manhood
doth convay Unto the Thieving hands of feeble age:
Thus are wee all Thieves, all our Pilgrimage,
In all which progresse many times by stealth,
Strange sicknesses doe Rob us of our health.
Rage steales our Reason, Enuy thinkes it fit
To steale our Love, whilest Foliy steales our wit.
Pride filcheth from us our Humility,
And Lechery doth steale our honesty,
Base Auarice, our Conscience doth purloin,
Whilest sloth to steale our mindes from work doth joy [...]
Time steales upon us, whilest wee take small care,
And makes us old before wee be aware:
Sleepe and his brother Death conspite our fall.
The one steales halfe our lives, the other all.
Thus are wee Robb'd by Morpheus, and by Mu ,
Till in the end, each Corps is but a Coarse,
Note but the seasons of the yeere, and see
How they like Thieves to one another bee;
From Winters frozen face, through snow & showers
The Spring doth steale roots, plants, buds & flowers
Then Summer Robs the Spring of natures sute,
And harvest Robs the Suramer of his fruite,
Then Winter comes againe, and he bereaves
The Harvest of the Graine, and Trees of Leaves,
And thus these seasons Rob each other still
Round in their course, like Horses in a mill.
The Elements, Earth, Water, Ayre, and Fire
To rob each other daily doe conspire:
The fiery Sun from th' Ocean, and each River
Exhales their Waters, which they all deliver:
This water, into Clowdes the Ayre doth steale,
Where it doth unto Snow or Haile congeale,
Untill at last Earth robs the Ayre againe
Of his stolne Treasure, Haile, Sleete, Snow or Ri [...]
Thus be it hot or cold, or dry or wet,
These Thieves, from one another steale and get
Night robs us of the day, and day of night:
Light pilfers darknes, and the darknes light.
Thus life, death, seasons, and the Elements,
And day and night, for Thieves are presidents.
Two arrant Thieves we ever beare about us,
The one within, the other is without us;
All that we get by toyle, or industry,
Our Backes and Bellies steale continually:
For though men labour with much care and carke
Lie with the Lamb downe, rise up with the Lar ,
Sweare and forsweare, deceave, and lie and cog,
And have a Conscience worse then any Dog,
Be most ungracious, extreme vile and base,
And (so he gaine) not caring for disgrace:
Let such a Man or Woman count their gaines,
They have but meat, and raiment for their paines.
No more have they that doelive honestest,
Those that can say their Cousciences are best,
Their Bellies and their Backes, day, night and hou [...],
The fruits of all their labours doe devoure:
A wispe of rushes, or a clod of land,
Or any wadde of hay that's next to hand
They'l steale, and for it have a good excuse;
They doe't to keepe their hands in ure, or use:
But not t'excuse a Thiefe in any case;
I say there are some crimes as void of grace,
On whom men scarce have feeling or a thought,
Nor e'r like Thieves are to the Gallowes brought.
Those that obey false gods, commit offence
Against th' Eternall Gods Omnipotence.
Those that doe graven Images adore,
Are worse then Thieves, yet are not hang'd therefore;
Tis treason high to take Gods name in vaine,
Yet most men do't, through frailty, or for gaine.
The Sabbath is prophan'd continually,
Whilest the offenders pay small penalty.
And Parents are dishonour'd, without awe,
The whilest the children doe escape the law:
And murther, though't be ne'r so soule and deadly,
Is oft times made man-slaughter or chancemedley.
Adultery's neighbourhood, and fornication,
May be conniu'd at, with a toleration.
A Witnesse, that false testimony beares,
'Tis a great wonder if he lose his eares,
But sure the Proverbe is as true as briefe,
A Lyer's ever worser then a Thiefe,
And 'tis call'd Thrist, when men their minds doe set,
To cover how their Neighbours goods to get.
To be vaineglorious, and ambitious proud,
Are Gentlemanlike parts, must be allow'd.
To beare an Enuy, base and secretly,
'Tis counted Wisedome, and great Policy.
To be a Drunkard, and the Cat to whip,
Is call'd the King of all good Fellowship..
THe worlds eye daz'ler in his fiery race,
Doth at the Lyon lodge his untam'd Steeds:
And now the ripening yeere begins apace
To shew Dame T [...]llu , procreative seeds.
For as from man, mans generation breeds,
So by manuring of our Grandam Earth,
Are brought forth fruits, & flowres, and hearbs, and weeds,
To shield ingratefull man from pining dearth.
The dogged dog daies now with heat doe swelt,
And now's the season, of th'unseasn'd aire:
When burning seavers make the patient melt,
Whose heat the Doctors hardly can repaire:
For why, these cur ish daies are fatall still,
And where they chance to bite, they use to kill.
THree daies it rain'd blood, when Rivallo reign'd,
And great mortalitie the Land sustain'd;
Hee forty six yeeres rul'd in Kingly State,
And then surrendred to all humane Fate.