Pure Adamite, and simply for that end
Resolv'd, and made this for my bosome-friend.
O that thou hadst been there next morn, that I
Might teach thee new Micro-cosmo-graphie!
Thou wouldst have ta'ne me, as I naked stood
For one of the seven pillars before the floud;
Such characters and hierogliphicks were,
In one night worn, that thou mightst justly swear
I'de slept in cere-cloth, or at Bedlam, where
The mad-men lodge in straw; I'le not forbear
To tell thee all; his wild impress and tricks
Like SPEED's1 old Britans made me look, or Picts;
His villanous, biting, wire-embraces
Had seal'd in me more strange formes and faces
Than children see in dreames, or thou hast read
In arras, puppet-playes, and ginger-bread,
With angled schemes, and crosses that bred fear
Of being handled by some conjurer,
And neerer, thou wouldst think-such strokes were drawn
I'de been some rough statue of Fetter-lane ;2
is to an ungallant dilemma on the subject of marriage fathered on him in Aulus Gellius. (v. 11). G.
1 John Speed: Born 1555: died July 28th 1629. G. 2 Fetter Lane was a 'lane' leading originally to gardens, and so called says Stow, on account of fewters (idle people) lying there. Both extremities of the 'lane' were used for
Nay, I believe, had I that instant been
By surgeons or apothecaries seen,
They had condemned my raz'd skin to be
Some walking herball, or anatomie.
But-thanks to th' day!-'tis off. I'd now
Thee friend to put this peece to merchandize;
The pedlars of our age have business yet,
And gladly would against the Fayr-day fit
Themselves with such a roofe, that can secure
Their wares from dogs and cats rain'd in showre,
It shall performe; or if this will not doe
'Twill take the ale-wives sure; 'twill make them two
Fine roomes of one, and spread upon a stick,
Is a partition, without lime or brick.
Horn'd obstinacie! how my heart doth fret
To think what mouthes and elbowes it would set
In a wet day? have you for two pence e're
Seen King Harry's chappell at Westminster,
more than two centuries as places of public execution. Ben Jonson names it in association with pawnbrokers. From Vaughan's allusion there must have been 'statues' placed in some of the public buildings. The student of Puritanism will remember Fetter-lane mainly as consecrated by the 'preaching' of the burningly eloquent William Fenner.
Where in their dustie gowns of brasse and stone
The judges lye, and markt you how each one
In sturdie marble-plets about the knee,
Bears up to shew his legs and symmetrie ?
Just so would this; that I think't weav'd upon
Some stiffneckt Brownist's exercising loome.
O that thou hadst it when this jugling fate
Of souldierie first seiz'd me! at what rate
Would I have bought it then; what was there
I would have giv'n for the compendious hutt?
I doe not doubt but-if the weight could please,—
'Twould guard me better then a Lapland-lease.1
Or a German shirt with inchanted lint
Stuff'd through, and th' devil's beard and face weav'd in't.
But I have done. And think not, friend, that I This freedome tooke to jeere thy courtesie;
I thank thee for't, and I believe my Muse
So known to thee, thou'lt not suspect abuse;
She did this, 'cause-perhaps-thy love paid thus
Might with my thanks out-live thy cloke, and us.
1 Query perpetual: a play on the duration of Winter in Lapland? G.
UPON MR. FLETCHER'S PLAYES, PUB
KNEW thee not, nor durst attendance strive
Labell to wit, Verser remonstrative,
And in some suburb-page-scandal to thine-
Like Lent before a Christmasse scatter mine.
This speaks thee not, since at the utmost rate
Such remnants from thy peece intreat their date;
Nor can I dub the coppy, or afford
Titles to swell the reare of verse with lord,
Nor politickly big, to inch low fame,
Stretch in the glories of a stranger's name,
And clip those bayes I court; weak striver I,
But a faint echo unto Poetrie.
I have not clothes t' adopt me, nor must sit
For plush and velvet's sake, esquire of Wit,
Yet modestie these crosses would improve,
And rags neer thee, some reverence may move.
I did believe-great Beaumont being dead-
Thy widow'd Muse slept on his flowrie bed;
But I am richly cosen'd, and can see
Wit transmigrates: his spirit stayd with thee;
Which doubly advantag'd by thy single pen
'The folio of Beaumont and Fletcher of 1647, corresponds with those of Shakespeare, Ben Jonson &c. G.
In life and death now treads the stage agen;
And thus are wee freed from that dearth of wit
Which starv'd the Land, since into schismes split,
Wherein th'hast done so much, wee must needs guesse
Wit's last edition is now i'th' Presse,
For thou hast drain'd invention, and he
That writes hereafter, doth but pillage thee.
But thou hast plotts; and will not the Kirk strain At the designes of such a tragick brain?
Will they themselves think safe, when they shall see
Thy most abominable policie?
Will not the Eares1 assemble, and think fit
Their Synod fast, and pray, against thy wit?
But they'le not tyre in such an idle quest,
Thou doest but kill, and circumvent in jest,
And when thy anger'd Muse swells to a blow
'Tis but for Field's, or Swansteed's overthrow.
Yet shall these conquests of thy layes outlive
Their Scotish zeale, and compacts made to grieve
The peace of spirits: and when such deeds fayle
Of their foule ends, a faire name is thy bayle.
But-happy thou !-ne'r saw'st these stormes,
our aire
Teem'd with even in thy time, though seeming faire;
1 Sic. I fear it is used as = asses, though it may be a misprint for something less discreditable. G.
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