Abuses Stripped and Whipped, Book 2 · Satire 2

Abuses Stripped and Whipped · Book 2 · Satire 2

OF IN CONSTANCY.

SATYR. 2.

YEt theres another property in men,

That meanes to set my Muse to work agen,

In constancy, and that no other is,

Vnlesse I vnderstand the same amisse,

But an vnsetled humor of the mind,

Which so vnstable is it cannot find

By any study that Opinion,

Of which it dares to be resolued on.

'Tis meere Irresolution and Estranging

For what is purpos'd by a fickle changing.

But since this vice I meane for to detect,

Women I know will earnestly expect

To be sore raild'on, but Ile gently vse them,

Because I see their consciences accuse them,

And notwithstanding they deserue much blame,

Yet Ile not tax them by their proper name,

So they will think I also meane them, when

I vse no more, but this bare name of Men:

And though their faults I seeme not to vpbraid,

Cause nothing of them is directly said;

Yet they, I hope wil nere the more disdaine,

To be thought fickle, proud, and weak and vaine.

But now for men; whereas I did complaine,

He both in Dee… and Word, and Thought was vain…

So I in this (I see) the like may doo,

Since he in all these is inconstant to.

And first it is a wonder for to see

His actions how mutable they be;

He labour's now, and's altogether set

VponUpon the world how he wealth may get,

VponUpon a sodaine; then he thinkes to mend it,

Hee's in a humor then he meanes to spend it:

Somtime he is consenting with the Diuell,

And ready to do any act that's euill.

The which, perhaps, repenting, some diuine

Or heauenly matter doth his thoughtes refine.

So that he is resolu'd to spend that day,

In reading what Gods holy Prophets say;

Whlch in his mind it may be worketh so,

He leaues it, and wil to a Sermon goe;

Where by the way a Bill he doth espy,

Which showes there's acted some new Comedy

Then thither he is full and wholly bent,

There's nothing that shall hinder his intent,

But ere he to the Theater can come,

He heares perhaps the sounding of a Drum:

Thereat he leaues both Stage-play and Deuotion,

And wil forsooth go see some idle motion;

Ere he gets in his rouling wandring eyes,

Beholds some Fencer prest to play his prize.

Faith then there is no remedy hee'le see 't;

But e're he can get halfe-way o're the street

Some very neere acquaintance doth salute him,

Who for a miser would perhaps repute him,

Vnlesse he kndly offer to bestow

The wine or beere at least, before he goe?

VVell then he will; but while they do deuise,

What wine to hauehave, perhaps they heare the cryes,

And howling which the eager Mastiffes make,

VVhen they behold a Bull or Beare at stake.

Oh, on a sodaine then they will be gone,

Thei'le see that first and come and drinke anon,

But iust as he out of the T…ern… peepes,

Some gallant Lasse along before him sweepes:

VVhose youthfull brow adorn'd with beauty trim

And louely-making doth so rauish him,

As if that he were bound for to attend,

He leaues Play, Fencer, VVine, Bull, Dogs, and Friend.

By which we see his mind doth alwayes vary,

And seldome constant on one subiect tary.

But stil that thing with most desire is sought,

VVhichWhich happens for to be the last in thought.

One while he likes best of the Country sport,

Anon prefers the pleasure of the Court.

Another while his mind is all in Spaine,

Then beyond Nilus, and straight heere againe.

Now he thinkes highly of a single life,

And hateth Marriage as full of strife:

And yet e'ne in the turning of a hand,

Hee's glad to make a Ioynture of his land,

And woo with much intreaty to obtaine,

A wife which he did but of late disdaine.

One while he zealously professeth Christ,

But shortly he becomes an Athe-ist,

In Turkey he will Mahomet adore,

Among the cursed Pagans can implore

A Carued stone; In Rome he hath profest

The worship of that Antichristian Beast;

And yet in England heere with vsus he grants

No sound Religion but the Protestants.

And not alone according to the place,

Can these Camelions alter thus their case;

But for a shift themselues they doe apply,

To answere both the Time and Company.

Gallants shall find them Formall, young men Wild▪

Plaine men shall think them Simple, old men Mild.

And for the time with Edward they wil be,

(Ile warrant) Protestants, as wel as he.

And when his Sister Mary comes to Raigne,

They can be Papists easily againe.

Nay I do feare me though we hauehave had teaching,

And almost threescore years the Gospels preaching

Vnconstant mankind is so prone to ill,

(And to be changing hath so good a will)

Too many both of old men and of youth,

Might soone be drawne for to forsake the truth.

Let vsus but note, and 'twill be strange to see.

What contradictions in our actions be.

Sometime the same we do with Trophees raise,

That we did but a while before dispraise:

Nor can we alway in one passion keepe,

But often for one thing reioyce and weepe.

Is't not a signe of humane ficklenesse,

And a true note of our vnsetlednesse,

When not alone some one, or two, or few,

But a great number, a selected Crew,

Pickt out of all estates, and they the wisest,

The vnderstandingst, yea and the precisest

Of a whole Empire, and when these (I say)

HaueHave argu'd pro & con, from day to day,

From week to week to hauehave (perhaps) enacted,

One Law or Statute, yet when al's compacted,

And eueryevery thing seemes clearely done and ended

Then to hauehave somthing in't to be amended?

Yea and when this is done, and the Records,

Fram'd in their plain'st and most effectuall words,

T' expresse their meaning, and they thinke it plaine▪

Yet at next reading 'tis dislik't againe.

This yeare they make a Law, repeal 't the next,

Then re-inact …t, and then change the text;

Either by taking from, or adding to,

And so they hauehave an endlesse work to do.

But some may tel me that thus stands the case,

They must hauehave both respect to time and place

And that no Law deuis'd by humane wit,

Can be for eueryevery place and season fit:

All which I yeeld for truth indeed; but then,

We must confess't a misery in men,

That he (Camelion-like) must hauehave a mind,

With eueryevery obiect vntounto change inclin'd.

I might speake of the ficklenesse I see,

In mens External fortunes for to be:

For this day he hath friends, to morrow none,

Now he hath wealth, and in an hower 'tis gone,

Some in their youth there be hauehave all things store,

And yet do often liue til they are poore.

Again, there's some in youth at begger States;

Become in age for to be Potentates.

Some are of Kings made slaues, and Kings againe,

Whilst other with the contrary complaine,

For poore Eumenes of a Potters sonn,

By fickle fortunes help a Kingdome wonne;

But for him such a dyet did prouide,

That shortly after he of hunger dy'd.

I many such examples might inferre,

But that would wast more time and make me erre

From my intent, who purpose to relate,

The ficklenes of man, not his estate.

Moreouer, hee's a Creature knowes not how,

To do an act which he shall long allow,

Or think of wel himselfe; he cannot tell,

VVhat he would hauehave, nor what he would not, wel.

For peraduenture he is now content,

To do what he wil in an hower repent,

He does, and vndoes what he did before,

Is discontented, and with no man more

Then with himselfe; In word hee's fickle to,

For he wil promise what hee'le neuer do.

If that he tels me he wil be in Pauls,

I'le go looke for him in the Temple-hals,

For soonest to that place resort doth he,

VVhereas he saies or sweares he wil not be.

Oh! had there beene in wordes a constant trust,

I needed not to hauehave done as now I must.

I should hauehave had no cause to hauehave bewail'd,

That which I once thought would hauehave neuerfaild

But since 'tis thus, at nothing more I greeue,

Then that vnconstant wordes made me beleeue,

Were promises worth trust, what needed than,

Such written contracts betweene Man and Man?

And wherefore should they make so much ado,

To hauehave both hands and seales to witnes too?

Vnlesse it be for proofes to make it plaine,

Their wordes are both inconstant, false, and vaine.

To morrow he wil earnestly gaine-say.

What stoutly is affirm'd by him to day:

Yea truely hee 's so wauering and vniust,

That scarce a word of his deserueth trust.

But as a creature of all good forlorne,

Sweares what's deni'd, and straight denyes what's sworne

That I suppose, in troth and do not mock,

Hee 's flt for nothing but a weather-cock.

Then that same thought that's likeliest to remaine,

Another thats vnlike puts out againe.

For Appetite, not reason, guides him still,

Which makes him so inconstant in his VVill.

Had he a sute at first but made of leather,

And cloathes enough to keepe away the weather

'Twere all his wish; wel so let vsus grant,

And ten to one he somthing else will want.

But sweares that he for more would neuer care,

Then to be able to hauehave cloth to weare,

Which if he get, then would he very faine,

Reach to hauehave silkes, for cloth he faith is plaine,

And so his wishes seldome would hauehave stay,

Vntill that he hath wisht for all he may.

But though from this infirmity there's no man,

That I can well except it is so common,

Yet surely I most properly may cal't

Or tearm't to be the common peoples fault;

Think not I wrong them, for if it may not be,

A fault for to digresse, you soone should see

Their nature and condition; for I hate it:

And now I think vponupon 't I wil relate it.

Tax me who list (I care not) heere Ile breake,

My course a while, I may not chuse but speake,

Somthing, I say my Muse of them must tell,

She cannot beare it any farther well.

And yet expect not all, for I'le but shew,

Of many hundred thousand faults, a few.

And to be breefe: The Vulg…r are a rude,

A strange inconstant hare-braind multitude:

Borne too and fro with eueryevery idle passion,

Or by opinion led beside all fashion,

They stil desire newes, and to a song,

Or a bald Tale thei'l listen all day long.

Soone weary of a good thing, and they try,

To al reports how they may adde a lye;

Like that of Scoggins crowes: and with them stil,

Custome hath borne most sway and euer will:

And good or bad, what their forefathers did,

Thei'l put in prastise to, (else God for bid)

They are seditious and much giuen to range,

In their opinions, and desiring change,

For if their Country be turmoyld with warre,

They thinke that peace is more commodious farre,

If they be quiet they would very faine,

Begin to set the warres abroach againe;

I wel remember when an Irish presse,

Had made a parish but a man the lesse,

Lord what a hurly burly there was than!

These warrs (say they) hathe cost vsus many a man,

The Countrey is impouerisht by 't and we,

Rob'd of our Husbands and our Children be,

With many lamentations: But now peace,

Hath made …ellonaes anger for to cease,

Their euer discontented natures grutch,

And thinke this happy peace we hauehave too much,

Yea and their wisdomes beare vsus now in hand,

That it is warres that doth enrich the Land:

But what are these? not men of any merit,

That speak it from a bold and daring spirit,

But lightly some faint-hearted brauing momes,

That rather had be hang'd at their owne …omes,

Then for their Countries welfare for to stay,

The brunt of one pitcht battell but a day,

Of such as would distract with feare become,

To heare the thundring of a martiall drum.

They cannot keep a meane, a naughty crime,

Nor neuer are contented with the time.

But better like the state they hauehave been in,

Although the present hath the better bin,

E'ne as the Iewes, that loathing Manna, faine

Would be in Egypt at their flesh again,

Though they were there in bondage; so do these,

VVish for the world as in Queene Maries dayes;

VVith all the blindnes and the trumpery,

That was expeld the land with Popery;

VVhy? thinges were cheap, and twas a goodly m…ny.

VVen we had foure and twenty agges a penny.

But sure they ate them stale for want of wit,

And that hath made them adle-headed yet.

Then this (moreouer) I hauehave in them seene,

They alwaies to the good hauehave enuious beene,

Mild men they reckon fooles and do vphold,

Him to be valiant that is ouer-bold:

When he with wisemen is and euer was.

Counted no better then a desperate Asse.

He that doth trust vntounto their louelove, shall find

Tis more vnconstant then the wauering wind,

Which since my time a man that many knew,

Relying on it: at his death found true.

Then they hauehave oft vnthank fully withstood,

Those that hauehave laboure▪ for the common good.

And being basely minded euermore,

Seeke lesse the publick then the priuate store.

Moreouer such a Prince as yet was neuer,

Of whom the People could speake well of euer,

Nor can a man a gouernment inuent them,

How good soeuer that shall long content them.

Their honesty as I do plainely find

Is not the disposition of their mind:

But they are forc't vntounto the same through feare,

As in those villaines it may wel appeare.

Who hauing found so vile vngodly cause,

If there be any meanes to wrest the Lawes,

By tricks or shifts to make the matter goe

As they would hauehave it, all is well enow:

Although the wrong and … they proffer,

Be to apparent for a Iew to offer.

They know not Iustice, and oft causles hate,

Or where their should not are compassionate,

As at an execution I hau… seene,

Where Malefactors hauehave rewarded beene,

According to desert; before they know,

If he accused, gui…ty be or no.

They on report, this hastie censure giuegive;

He is a villaine and vnfit to liue:

But when he is once arraign'd and found

Guilty by Law; and heauily led bound

VntoUnto the Scaffold, then they doe relent,

And pi…ty his deserued punishment.

Those that wil now braue gallant men be deem'd▪

And with the Common people be esteem'd,

Let them turne hack-sters as they walke the street,

Quarrell, and fight with eueryevery one they meet;

Learne a welsh Song to scoffe the Brittish bloud

Or breake a iest on Scotsmen, that's as good,

Or if they would that fooles should much admire them,

They should be Iugglers if I might desire them:

But if they want such feates for to be glorious

Make Ballets and they shall become not orious,

Yet this is nothing if they looke for fame,

And meane to hauehave an euerlasting name.

Amongst the Vulgar let them seeke for gaine

With Ward the Pirat on the boisterous Maine,

Or else well mounted keepe themselues on land,

And bid our wealthy trauellers to stand,

Emptying their full cram'd bags; for that's a tricke

VVhichWhich somtimes wan renoune to cutting Dicke.

But some may tell me, though that such,

It doth not goe against their conscience much:

And though there's boldnes showne in such a case,

Yet to be Tost at Tyburns a disgrace,

No, 'tis their credit, for the people then,

Wil say, 'tis pitty they we e…proper men.

With many such like humors base and naught,

I do perceiue the common people fraught,

Then by th'opinion of some it seemes,

How much the Vulgar sort of men esteems

O … or learning: Certaine neighbouring swaines,

(That think none wise-men but whose wisdome games;

Where knowledge be it morall or diuine

Is valued as an Orient-pearle with swine

Meeting me in an euening in my walke,

Being gone past me, thus began their talke.

First an old Chuff, whose roofe, I dare be bould,

Hath bacon hang's in't aboue fiue yeares old.

Said: That's his sonne that…s owner of the grounds

That on this pleasant beechs mountaines bounds,

D'ye marke me ne ghbors? This sa…e yong mans vather

Had a bin my zunne chud a hangd him rather

Assoone as he perze…u'd the little voole,

Could creepe about the house, putten to schoole,

Whither he we t…not now and then a …purt,

As't had beene good to keep him from the durt;

Nor yet at leasure tim s, (thats my zunnes stint)

Vor then … deed there had beene reason in'te

B…t vor continuance and beyond all zesse

A held him too't sixe dayes a weeke no lesse

That by S. Anne ie was a great presumption

It brought him no… his end with a Consvmption:

And then besides he was not so content,

To putten there where as our childers went:

To learne the Horne booke, and the Abcee through,

No that he thought not learning halfe enough,

But he must seeke the Country all about,

Where he might find a better Teacher out.

And then he buies him (now a pips befall it)

A vlapp…ng booke, I know not what they call it,

Tis latine …ll, thus it begins; In speech,

And hat's in English, boy, beware your breech,

One day my Dicke a leafe ont with him brought,

Which he out of his fellowes booke had ra…g …t,

And to h… s Mother and my selfe did read it,

But we indeed did so extreamely dread it,

We gaue him charge no more thereon to looke,

Vor veare it had bin of a coniuring booke,

If that you thinke I iest goe as ke my wife,

If ere she heard such …ibberish in her life,

But when he yonn had cond the same by heart,

And of a meny moethe better part;

He went to Oxford, where he did remaine,

Some certaine yeares, whence hee's returnd againe,

Now who can tell (it in my stomack stickes)

And I doe veare he has some Oxford tricks.

But if it be zo: would he had ne…e come hether,

Vor we shall still be sure of blustring weather.

To what end comes his paine and vathers cost?

Th' one's charges, and the tothers labour lost;

I warrant he so long a learning went,

That he almost a brothers portion spent:

And now it nought auailes him: by this holly,

I thinke all learning in the world a folly,

And them I take to be the veriest vooles,

That all their life time doe frequent the schooles,

Goe aske him now and see if all his wits,

Can tell you when a barly season hits.

When Meddowes must be left to spring, when mowne,

When Wheate, or tares, or rye, or pease be sowne.

He knows it not, nor when tis meet to fold,

How to manure the ground that's wet or cold:

What Lands are fit for Pasture, what for corne,

Or how to hearten what is ouer-worne.

Nay; he scarce knowes a Gelding from a Mare,

A Barrow from a Sow, nor tak she care

Of such like things as these; be knowes not whether,

There be a difference twixt the Ewe and Weather,

Can he resolue you? (No nor many more)

If Cowes doe want their vpper teeth before;

Nay I durst pawne a groat he cannot tell,

How many legges a Sheepe hath very well,

Is't not a wise man thinke yee? By the Masse,

Cham glad at heart my zunnes not zuch an Asse,

Why he can tell already all this geare,

As well almost as any of vsus heare.

And neighbors: yet I'le tell you more; my Dicke,

Hath very pretty skill in Arsemetricke.

Can cast accouts, writes his name, & Dunces daughter,

Taught him to spell the hardest words it'h zauter.

And yet the Boy Ile warrant yee knowes how,

As well as you or I, to hold the Plow,

And this I noted in the vrchin euer,

Bid him to take a Booke he had as lether,

All day hauehave drawne a Harrow; truth is so,

I likt it wel although I made no shew

Vor to my comfort I did plainly see,

That he heoreaster would not bookish bee,

Then when that hauing nought at home to do,

I sometime forct him to the schoole to goe,

You would hauehave greeud in heart to heare him whine,

And then how glad he was to keep the swine,

I yet remember; and what tricks the Mome,

Would hauehave inuented for to stay at home

You would hauehave wondred; But 'tis such another,

A has a wit in all the world likes Mother;

Yet once a month, although it greeues vsus than,

H'ele looke you in a books do what we can;

That Mother, Sister, brother all we foure,

Can scarce perswade him from't in halfe an howre,

But oft I thinke he does it more of spight,

To anger vsus then any true delight.

Vor why? his Mother thinks as others do,

And I am halfe of that opinion too.

Although a little learning be not bad,

Those that are bookish are the so …nest mad.

And therefore since much wit makes vooles of many,

Chil take an order mine shall ne're hauehave any.

Byr Lady your the wiser (quoth the rest)

The course you take in our conceit's the best,

Your Lonne may liue in any place ith land,

By his industrious and laborious hand,

Whilst he (but that his parents are his stay)

Hath not the meane, to keepe him selfe a day,

His study to our sight no pleasure giues,

Nor me…es, nor profit, and thereby he liues

So little thing the better, none needt doubt it,

He might hauehave been a happier man without it.

For though he now … speake a little better,

It is not words you know will free the debter.

Thus so ne whose speeches shew wel what they be,

For want of matter fell to talke of me.

Of whom, though somthing they hauehave said be true

Yet since insteed of giuing Act her due,

They hauehave disgrast it; Notwithstanding I,

HaueHave not the knowledge that these Dol…s enuy,

Or can so much without incurring blame,

As take vntounto my selfe a Schollers name.

Yet now my reputation for to saue,

Since I must make account of that I hauehave,

Ile let you know though they so lightly deeme it,

What gaine's in knowledge, and how I esteeme it,

As often as I call to minde the blisse,

That in my little Knowledge heaped is.

The many comforts, of all which the least,

More ioyes my heart then can be well exprest.

How happy then thinke I are they whose soules

More wisdome by a thousand parts in rowles;

Whose vnderstanding-hearts are so diuine

They can perceiue a m…ll…ou more then mine,

Such hauehave content indeed: And who that's man

And should know reason is so sencelesse than

To spurne at Knowledg…, Art, or Learning; when

That onelyonly showes they are the race of men?

And what may I then of those Peasants deeme,

The which of wisdome make so small esteeme?

But that indeed such blockish sencelesse logges,

Sprang from those clownes Latona turn'd to frogs;

Alas, suppose they nothing can be got

By precious stones, cause swine esteeme them not?

Ot do they thinke, because they cannot vse it,

That those which may hauehave Knowledge wil refuse it?

Well, if their shallow coxcombs can containe

A reason when Its told them, I'le explaine,

How that same little Knowledge I hauehave got,

Much pleasures me, though they perceiue it not:

For first thereby (though none can here attaine

For to renew their first estate againe)

Apart reuiues (although it be but small)

Of that I lost by my first fathers fall.

And makes me man, which was before (at least)

As haplesse, if not more, then is the beast

That reason wants; for his condition still,

Remaines according to his Makers will.

They neuer dreame of that, and then by this,

I find what godly, and what euill is;

That knowing both, I may the best ensue,

Aud as I ought the worser part eschew,

Then I hauehave learn't to count that drosse but vaine,

For which such Bores consume themselues with Paine:

I can endure discontentments, crosses,

Be Iouia…l in want, and smile at losses:

Keep vnderunder Passions, stop those insurrections,

Rais'd in my Microcosmus by affections.

Be nothing greeued for aduersitie,

Nor nere the prouder for prosperitie.

How to respect my friend I partly know,

And in like manner how to vse my foe.

I can see others lay their soules to pawne,

Looke vponupon Great-men, and yet scorne to fawne.

Am still content, & dare whilst God giues grace,

E'ne looke my grimmest fortunes in the face.

I feare mens censures as the char-coale sparks,

Or as I doe a toothlesse dog that barks;

Th'one frights children, 'other threats to burne,

But sparks will die, and brawling curs returne.

Yea I hauehave learn't that still my care shall be,

A rush for him, that cares a straw for me.

Now what would men hauehave more? are these no pleasures?

Or do they not deserue the name of treasures?

Sure yes; and he that hath good learning store,

Shall finde these in't besides a thousand more.

O… but our Chuffs thinke these delights but course,

If we compare them to their Hobby-horse:

And they beleeue not any pleasure can,

Make them so merry as Maid-marian.

Not is the Lawyer prouder of his fee▪

Then these will of a Cuckooe Lordship bee.

Though their sweet Ladies make them father that,

Some other at their VVhitson ales begat;

But he whose carriage is of so good note,

To be thought worthy of their Lords fooles coate.

That's a great credit, for because that he,

Is euer thought the wisest man to be.

But as there's vertue where the Diuil's precisest,

So ther's much knowledge where a fool's the wisest,

But what meane I? let earth content these moles,

And their high'st pleasure be their summer-poles,

About the which I leaue them for to dance,

And much good do't them with their ignorance.

So this I hope will serue for to declare,

How rude these vulgar sort of people are.

But herevpon there's some may question make,

VVhether I onelyonly for the Vulgar take,

Such men as these; To whom I answer, no,

For let them hereby vnderstand and know,

I doe not meane these meaner sort alone,

Tradesmen or Labourers; but eueryevery one,

Be he Esquire, Knight, Baron, Earle or more,

Yet if he hauehave not learn'd of Vertues lore,

But followes Vulgar Passions; then e'ne he,

Amongst the Vulgar shall for one man be.

And the poore Groome, that he thinks should adore him,

Shall for his Vertue be preferd before him.

For though the world doth such men much despise,

They seeme most noble in a wise-mans eyes.

And notwithstanding some doe noblest deeme,

Such as are sprung of great and high esteeme,

And those to whom the Country doth affoord

The title of a Marquis or a Lord,

Though 'twere atchiued by their fathers merits,

And themselues men but of dunghill spirits;

Cowards or fooles; (And such as euer be

Prating or boasting of their Pedigree)

When they are nothing but a blot or shame,

VntoUnto the noble house from whence they came.

Yet these (I say) vnlesse that they hauehave wit,

To guide the Common-wealth, as it is fit

They should; And as their good fore-fathers did,

How ere their faults may seeme by Greatness hid,

They shall appeare; And the poore Yeomans sonne,

Whose proper vertue hath true honour won,

Be plac't aboue him: But Nobilitie

That comes by birth hath most antiquitie

Some thinke; and tother (if at all

They yeeld as noble) they an vpstart call,

But I say rather no, his Noblenesse

That's rais'd by Vertue hath most worthinesse.

And is most ancient, for it is the same,

By which all Great men first obtaind their Fame;

So then I hope 'twill not offend the Court,

That I count some there with the Vulgar sort,

And outset others; yet some thinke me bold,

Because there's few that these opinions hold.

But shall I care what others thinke or say?

There is a path besides the beaten way;

Yea and a safer, for heere's Christs Instruction,

The broadest way leads soonest to Destruction.

And truely no opinions deceiue,

Sooner then those the Vulgar sort receiue,

And therefore he that would indeed be wise,

Must learne their rude conditions to despise,

And shun their presence; for we hauehave bin taught,

Diseases in a presse are quickly caught.

Now Satyr leaue them till another time,

And spare to scourge the Vulgar with thy rime,

If any thinke thou hast digrest too long,

They may passe ouer this, and doe no wrong.

But in my former matter to proceed,

Who, being mans Race is so much freed

From ficklenes, that he is sure to finde

Himselfe to morrow, in that very minde

Hee's in to day? though he not onelyonly know

No reason wherefore he should not be so,

But also though he plainly do perceiue

Much cause he should not that opinion leaue:

May no man do it? who then iustly can

Be forced to rely, or trust in Man

Whose thoughts are changing, and so oft amisse,

That by himselfe, himselfe deceiued is?

Who is so sottish as to build Saluation

On such a feeble tottering foundation

As Man? who is't that hauing a respect,

To his soules safety, will so much neglect

That precious assurance, as to lay

His confidence on that false peece of clay,

Which being fickle, merits farre lesse trust,

Then letters written in the sand, or dust?

Do they not see those they hauehave soundest deem'd,

And for their constants writers still esteem'd,

All wauering in assertions? yea but looke,

And you shall finde in one, and the same booke

Such contradiction in Opinion,

As shewes their thoughts are scarce at Vnion.

Where finde you him that dares be absolute,

Or alwaies in his sayings resolute?

Ther's none; I by my owne experience speake,

I hauehave a feeling that we men are weake,

Whereon much musing, makes me inly mourne,

And grieue at heart, that I a man was borne.

(Yet herevpon I do desire that no man,

VVould gather that I long to be a woman,)

Alas! how often had I good Intendments

And with my whole heart vow'd and sworn amendments

Yea purpos'd that, wherein I once thought, neuer

Vnconstancy should let me to perseuer?

And yet for all my purpose and my vow,

I am oft alter'd ere my selfe knowes how:

But therefore since it is not I alone,

Or any certaine number that is knowne,

To be vn-stable; but e'ne all that be;

Since none (I say) is from this frailty free,

Let vsus confesse it all, and all implore

Our nere repenting God; that euermore

Remaines the same, we may be (as we ought)

More certaine both in Word, and Deed, & Thought

That he will keep vsus from Inconstancy,

Yea from all damned, lewd Apostasie;

But howsoeuer our affections change,

And we in slight opinions hap to range:

Yet, pray his Truth in vsus be so ingraued,

Continuing to the end we may be saued.