FIE on all curtesie and vnruly windes,
Two onely foes that faire disguisement findes.
Strange curse! but fit for such a fickle age,
When scalpes are subject to such vassalage.
Late trauailing along in London way,
Mee met, as seem'd by his disguis❜d aray,
A lustie courtier, whose curled head
With abron locks was fairely furnished.
I him saluted in our lauish wise;
He answeres my vntimely courtesies:
His bonnet vail'd, ere euer he could thinke,
Th' unruly winde blowes off his periwinke.
He lights, and runs, and quickly hath him sped
To ouertake his ouerrunning head.
The sportfull winde, to mocke the headlesse man,
Tosses apace his pitch'd Rogerian ;
And straight it to a deeper ditch hath blowne:
There must my yonker fetch his waxen crowne.
I lookt, and laught, whiles in his raging minde,
He curst all curtesie, and vnruly winde.
I lookt, and laught, and much I meruailed,
To see so large a caus-way in his head.
And me bethought, that when it first begon,
T'was some shroad autumne, that so bar'd the bone. Is't not sweete pride, when men their crownes must
With that which ierks the hams of euery iade,
Or floor-strowd locks from off the barbers sheares? But waxen crownes well gree with borrowed haires.
WHEN Gullion di'd (who knowes not Gullion?)
And his drie soule arriu'd at Acheron,
He faire besought the feryman of hell
That he might drink to dead Pantagruel.
Charon was afraid lest thirsty Gullion
Would haue drunke drie the riuer Acheron ;
Yet last consented, for a little hyre;
And downe he dips his chops deepe in the myre,
And drinks, and drinks, and swallows in the streeme,
Vntill the shallow shores all naked seeme.
Yet still he drinkes, nor can the Botemans cries,
Nor crabbed oares, nor prayers make him rise.
So long he drinkes, till the black Carauell
Stands still fast grauel'd on the mud of hell.
There stand they still, nor can go, nor retyre,
Tho greedie ghosts quicke passage did require.
Yet stand they still, as tho they lay at rode,
Till Gullion his bladder would vnlode.
They stand, and waite, and pray for that good houre,
Which when it came, they sailed to the shore.
But neuer since dareth the feryman,
Once intertaine the ghost of Gullian.
Drinke on drie soule, and pledge sir Gullion:
Drinke to all healths, but drinke not to thine owne. Desunt nonnulla.
SEEST thou how gayly my yong maister goes,
Vaunting himselfe vpon his rising toes,
And pranks his hand vpon his daggers side,
And picks his glutted teeth since late noon-tide?
Tis Ruffio. Trow'st thou where he din'd to day? 5
In sooth I saw him sit with Duke Humfray.
Many good welcoms, and much gratis cheere,
Keepes he for euerie straggling caualiere;
An open house, haunted with great resort,
Long seruice mixt with musicall disport.
Manie faire yonker with a fether'd crest
Chooses much rather be his shot free guest,
To fare so freely with so little cost,
Then stake his twelue-pence to a meaner host.
Hadst thou not told me, I should surely say,
He touch❜t no meat of all this liue-long day.
For sure me thought, yet that was but a ghesse,
His eyes seeme sunke for verie hollownesse,
But could he haue (as I did it mistake)
So little in his purse, so much vpon his backe;
So nothing in his maw; yet seemeth by his belt,
That his gaunt gut no too much stuffing felt.
Seest thou how side it hangs beneath his hip?
Hunger and heauie iron makes girdles slip.
Yet for all that, how stifly strits he by
All trapped in the new-found brauerie.
The Nuns of new-woon Cales his bonnet lent,
In lieu of their so kind a conquerment.
What needed he fetch that from farthest Spaine,
His grandame could haue lent with lesser paine? 30
Though he perhaps neuer past the English shore,
Yet faine would counted be a conquerour.
His haire, French-like, stares on his frighted hed,
One locke, Amazon-like, disheueled,
As if he ment to weare a natiue cord,
If chaunce his Fates should him that bane afford.
All Brittish bare vpon the bristled skin,
Close noched is his beard, both lip and chin ;
His linnen collar labyrinthian-set,
Whose thousand double turnings neuer met;
His sleeues halfe hid with elbow-pineonings,
As if he ment to flie with linnen wings.
But when I looke and cast mine eyes below,
What monster meets mine eyes in humane show?
So slender wast, with such an abbots loyne,
Did neuer sober Nature sure conioyne.
Lik'st a strawne scar-crow in the new-sowne field,
Reard on some sticke, the tender corne to shield ;
Or, if that semblance suite not euerie deale,
Like a broad shak-forke with a slender steale.
Despised Nature suit them once aright,
Their bodie to their cote-both now mis-dight:
Their bodie to their clothes might shapen bee,
That nill their clothes shape to their bodie.
Meane while I wonder at so prowd a backe,
Whiles th' emptie guts lowd rumblen for long lacke,
The bellie enuieth the backs bright glee,
And murmurs at such inequalitie;
The backe appeares vnto the partiall eine,
The plaintiue belly pleads they bribed beene;
And he, for want of better aduocate,
The backe, insulting ore the bellies need,
Doth to the eare his iniurie relate.
Saies, thou thy selfe, I others eyes must feed.
The maw, the guts, all inward parts, complaine 65
The backs great pride, and their owne secret paine.
Ye witlesse gallants, I beshrew your hearts,
That sets such discord twixt agreeing parts,
Which neuer can be set at onement more,
Vntill the mawes wide mouth be stopt with store. 70
THUS haue I writ in smoother cedar tree,
So gentle Satyrs, pend so easily.
Henceforth I write in crabbed oake-tree rinde,
Search they that meane the secret meaning finde.
Hold out ye guiltie, and ye galled hides,
And meete my far-fetch't stripes with waiting sides.
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