Philo the lawyer and the fortune-teller,
The school-master, the midwife and the bawd,
The conjurer, the buyer and the seller
Of painting which with breathing will be thaw'd,
Doth practise physic, and his credit grows,
As doth the ballad-singer's auditory,
Which hath at Temple Bar his standing chose,
And to the vulgar sings an ale-house story.
First stands a porter, then an oyster wife
Doth stint her cry, and stay her steps to hear him,
Then comes a cutpurse ready with a knife,
And then a country client passeth near him:
There stands the constable, there stands the whore,
And harkening to the song, mark not each other;
There by the serjeant stands the debtor poor,
And doth no more mistrust him than his brother:
Thus Orpheus to such hearers giveth music,
And Philo to such patients giveth physic.
Fuscus is free, and hath the world at will,
Yet in the course of life that he doth lead,
He's like a horse which turning round a mill,
Doth always in the self-same circle tread:
First he doth rise at ten, and at eleven
He goes to Gill's, where he doth eat till one;
Then sees he a play till six, and sups at seven,
And after supper, straight to bed is gone.
And there till ten next day he doth remain,
And then he dines, then sees a comedy;
And then he sups, and goes to bed again,
Thus round he runs without variety:
Save that sometimes he comes not to the play,
But falls into a whore-house by the way.
The small feast after, travels to the Burse
Twice every day the flying news to hear,
Which when he hath no money in his purse,
To rich men's tables he doth often bear:
He tells how Gronigen is taken in,
By the brave conduct of illustrious Vere;
And how the Spanish forces Brest would win,
But that they do victorious Norris fear.
No sooner is a ship at sea surprised,
But straight he learns the news and doth disclose it; Fair written in a scroll he hath the names,
Of all the widows which the plague hath made; And persons, times and places, still he frames, To every tale, the better to persuade :
We call him fame, for that the wide-mouth slave, Will eat as fast as he will utter lies;
For Fame is said an hundred mouths to have,
And he eats more than would five score suffice.
By lawful mart, and by unlawful stealth,
Paul's in spite of envy fortunate,
Derives out of the oceans so much wealth,
As he may well maintain a lord's estate:
But on the land a little gulf there is,
Wherein he drowneth all the wealth of his.
Lycus which lately is to Venice gone,
Shall if he do return, gain three for one:
But ten to one, his knowledge and his wit,
Will not be bettered or increased a whit.
Publius, student at the common law,
Oft leaves his books, and for his recreation,
To Paris garden doth himself withdraw,
Where he is ravished with such delectation
As down amongst the bears and dogs he goes;
Where whilst he skipping cries to head, to head,
His sattin doublet and his velvet hose,
Are all with spittle from above be-spread.
When he is like his father's country hall,
Stinking with dogs, and muted all with hawks;
And rightly too on him this filth doth fall,
Which for such filthy sports his books forsakes;
Leaving old Plowden, Dyer and Brooke alone,
To see old Harry Hunkes and Sacarson.
When I this proposition had defended,
A coward cannot be an honest man,
Thou Sylla seemest forthwith to be offended,
And hold'st the contrary and swears he can :
But when I tell thee that he will forsake
His dearest friend, in peril of his life,
Thou then art chang'd and say'st thou didst mistake,
And so we end our argument and strife:
Yet I think oft, and think I think aright,
Thy argument argues thou wilt not fight.
Dacus with some good colour and pretence,
Terms his love's beauty silent eloquence;
For she doth lay more colours on her face,
Than ever Tully used his speech to grace.
Why dost thou Marcus in thy misery,
Rail and blaspheme, and call the heavens unkind;
The heavens draw no kindness unto thee,
Thou hast the heavens so little in thy mind;
For in thy life thou never usest prayer,
But at primero, to encounter fair.
MEDITATIONS OF A GULL. 47.
See yonder melancholy gentleman,
Which hood-winked with his hat, alone doth sit! Think what he thinks and tell me if you can,
What great affairs troubles his little wit.
He thinks not of the war 'twixt France and Spain,
Whether it be for Europe good or ill,
Nor whether the empire can itself maintain
Against the Turkish power encroaching still;
Nor what great town in all the Netherlands,
The stars determine to besiege this spring,
Nor how the Scottish policy now stands,
Nor what becomes of the Irish mutining.
But he doth seriously bethink him whether
Of the gull'd people he be more esteem'd,
For his long cloak, or his great black feather,
By which each gull is now a gallant deem'd :
Or of a journey he deliberates,
To Paris garden cock-pit or the play;
Or how to steal a dog he meditates,
Or what he shall unto his mistress say:
Yet with these thoughts he thinks himself most fit To be of counsel with a king for wit.
Peace idle muse, have done! for it is time,
Since lousy Ponticus envies my fame,
And swears the better sort are much to blame
To make me so well known for ill rhyme :
Yet Banks his horse is better known than he,
So are the camels and the western hog,
And so is Lepidus' high painted dog:
Why doth not Ponticus their fames envy ?
Besides this muse of mine, and the black feather,
Grew both together fresh in estimation,
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