Micro-Cosmography, Part 25 – Part 38
26. A Cooke.
THe Kitchin is his Hel, and hee the Diuell in it, where his meate aud he frye together. His Reuennues are showr'd downe from the fat of the Land, and he enter-lards his own grease among to helpe the drippings. Colericke hee is, not by nature so much as his Art, & it is a shrewd temptation that the chopping knife is so neare. His weapons ofter offensiue, are a messe of hot broth, and scalding water, and woe be to him that comes in his way. In the Kitchin he wil domineere, and rule the roste, in spight of his Master, and Curses is the very Dialect of his Calling. His labour is meere blustring and furie, and his Speech like that of Sailors in a storme, a thousand businesses at once, yet in all this tumult hee do's not louelove cumbustion, but will be the first man that shall goe and quench it. Hee is neuer good Christian till a hizzing Pot of Ale has slak't him, like Water cast on a fire-brand, & for that time he is tame and disposest. His cunning is not small in Architecture, for he builds strange Fabricks in Paste, Towres and Castles, which are offered to the assault of valiant teeth, and like Darius his Pallace, in one Banquet demolisht. Hee is a pittilesse murderer of Innocents, and hee mangles poore foules with vnheard of tortures, and it is thought the Martyrs persecutions were deuised from hence, sure we are St. Lawrence his Gridiron came out of his Kitchin. His best facultie is at the Dresser, where he seemes to hauehave great skill in the Tactickes, ranging his Dishes in order Militarie, and placing with great discretion in the fore-front meates more strong and hardy and the more cold and cowardly in the reare, as quaking Tarts, and quiueri…g Custards, and such milke-sop Dishes which scape many times the fury of the encounter. But now the second Course is gone vp, and hee downe into the Sellar, where hee drinkes and sleepes till foure a clocke in the afternoone, and then returnes againe to his Regiment.
27. A forward bold Man.
IS a lusty fellow in a crowd, that's beholding more to his elbow then his legges, for he do's not goe but thrusts well. Hee is a good shuffler in the world, wherin he is so oft putting forth, that at length he puts on. He can doe something, but dare doe much more, and is like a desperate soldier, who will assault any thing where he is sure not to enter. He is not so well-opinion'd of himselfe, as industrious to make other; and thinks no vice so preiudiciall as blushing. Hee is still citing for himselfe, that a candle should not be hid vnderunder a bushell, and for his part, he will be sure not to hide his, thogh his candle be but a snuffe or Rush-candle. These few good parts hee has, he is no niggard in displaying, and is like some needy flanting gold-smith, no thing in the inner roome, but all on the …np-boord: If he be a scholler, he ha's commonly stept into the Pulpit before a degree; yet into that too before he deseru'd it. He neuer deferres S. Maries beyond his regencie, and his next Sermon is at Pruls Crosse, and that printed. He loues publike things alife: and for any solemne entertainment he will find a mouth, find a speech who will. Hee is greedy of great acquaintance and many, and thinkes it no small aduancement to rise to bee knowne. His talke at the table is like Beniamins messe, fiue times to his part, and no argument shuts him out for a quarrellour. Of all disgraces he indures not to be Non-plust, and had rather flye for Sanctuary to Non-sense, which few can descry, then to nothing which all. His boldnesse is beholding to other mens modestie, which rescues him many times from a Bafflle; yet his face is good Armour, and hee is dasht out of any thing sooner then Countenance. Grosser conceites are puzzel'd in him for a rare man, and wiser men, though they know him, take him for their pleasure, or as they would doe a Sculler for being next at hand. Thus preferment at last stumbles on him because hee is still in the way. His Companions that flouted him before, now enuie him, when they see him come readie for Scarlet, whilst themselues lye Mustie in their old Clothes and Colledges.
28. A Baker.
NO man verifies the Prouerbe more, that it is an Almes-deed to punish him: for his penalty is a Dole, and do's the Beggers as much good as their Dinner. He abhors therefore workes of Charitie, and thinkes his Bread cast away when it is giuen to the poore. He loues not Iustice neither, for the weigh-scales sake, and hates the Clarke of the Market as his Executioner: yet hee findes mercy in his offences, and his Basket onelyonly is sent to Prison. Marry a Pillory is his deadly enemy, and he neuer heares well after.
30. A plaine Country Fellow.
IS one that manures his ground wel, but lets himselfe lie fallow and vntil'd. Hee has reason enough to doe his businesse, and not enough to be idle or melancholy. Hee seemes to hauehave the iudgement of Nabuchadnezar for his conuersation is among beasts, and his tallons none of the shortest, only he eates not grasse, because he loues not sallets. His hand guids the Plough, and the Plough his thoughts, and his ditch and land…marke is the very mound of his meditations. He expostulates with his Oxen very vnderstandingly, and speakes Gee and Ree better then English. His mind is not much distracted with obiects, but if a good fat Cowe come in his way, he stands dumbe and astonisht, and though his haste be neuer so great, will fixe here halfe an houres contemplation. His habitation is some poore Thatcht roofe, distinguisht from his Barn, by the loope-holes that let out smoak, which the raine had long since Washt thorow, but for the double seeling of Bacon on the inside, which has hung ther from his Grandsires time, and is yet to make rashers for posterity. His Dinner is his other worke, for he sweats at it as much as at his labour; he is a terrible fastner on a piece of Beefe, and you may hope to staue the Guard off sooner. His Religion is a part of his Copy-hold, which hee takes from his Land-lord, and referres it wholly to his discretion. Yet if hee giuegive him leaue, he is a good Christian to his power (that is) comes to Church in his best clothes, and sits there with his Neighbours, where he is capable onelyonly of two Praiers, for raine, and faire weather. Hee apprehends Gods blessings onelyonly in a Good Yeere, or a Fat pasture, and neuer praises him bu… on good ground. Sunday he esteemes a day to make merrie in, and thinkes a Bag-pipe as essentiall to it, as Euening Prayer, where hee walkes very solemnly after seruice with his hands coupled behind him, and censures the dauncing of his parish. His complement with his Neighbour is a good thumpe on the backe; and his salutation commonly some blunt Curse. Hee thinkes nothing to bee vices but Pride and ill-husbandrie, from which hee wil grauely disswade youth and has some thriftie Hobnayle Prouerbes to Clout his discourse. Hee is a niggard all the Weeke except onelyonly Market-day, where if his Corne sell well, hee thinkes he may be drunke with a good Conscience. His feete neuer stinke so vnbecommingly as when hee trots after a Lawyer in West-minster…hall, and euen cleaues the ground with hard scraping, in beseeching his Worship to take his money. Hee is sensible of no calamitie but the burning of a Stacke of Corne, or the ouer-flowing of a Medow, and thinkes Noahs Flood the greatest Plague that euer was, not because it Drowned the World, but spoyl'd the grasse. For Death hee is neuer troubled, and if hee get in but his Haruest before, let it come when it wil he cares not.
31. A Young-man.
HEe is now out of Natures protection, though not yet able to guide himselfe. But left loose to the World, and Fortune, from which the weaknesse of his Childhood preseru'd him: and now his strength exposes him. Hee is indeed iust of age to be miserable, yet in his owne conceit first begins to be happy; and hee is happier in this imagination, and his misery not felt is lesse. He sees yet but the outside of the World and Men, and conceiues them according to their appearing glister, and out of this ignorance beleeues them. He pursues all vanities for happinesse, and enioyes them best in this fancy. His reason serues not to curbe but vnderstand his appetite, and prosecute the motions thereof with a more eager earnestnes. Himselfe is his owne temptation, and needs not Satan; and the World will come hereafter. Hee leaues repentance for gray hayres, and performes it in being couetous. Hee is mingled with the vices of the age as the fashion and custome, …ith which hee longs to bee acquainted; and Sinnes to better his vnderstanding. He conceiues his Youth as the season of his Lust, and the Houre wherein hee ought to bee bad: and because he would not lose his time, spends it. He distasts Religion as a sad thing, and is sixe yeeres elder for a thought of Heauen. Hee scornes and feares, and yet hopes for old age, but dare not imagine it with wrincles. Hee loues and hates with the same inflamation: and when the heate is ouer is coole alike to friends and enemies. His friendship is seldome so stedfast but that lust, drinke, or anger may ouerturne it. He offers you his blood to day in kindnesse, and is readie to take yours to morrow. He do's seldome any thing which hee wishes not to doe againe, and is onelyonly wise after a misfortune. Hee suffers much for his knowledge, and a great deale of folly it is makes him a wise man. Hee is free from manie Vices, by being not grown to the performance, and is onelyonly more vertuous out of weaknesse. Euerie action is his danger, and eueryevery man his ambush. Hee is a Shippe without Pilot or Tackling, and only good fortune may steere him. If he scape this age, hee ha's scap't a Tempest, and may liue to be a Man.
32. The common singing-men in Cathedrall Churches.
ARe a bad Society, and yet a Company of good Fellowes, that roare deep in the Quire, deeper in the Tauerne. They are the eight parts of speech which goe to the Syntaxis of Seruice, and are distinguish't by their noyses much like Bels, for they make not a Consort but a Peale. Their pastime or recreation is prayers, their exrecise drinking, yet herein so religiously addicted that they serue God oftest when they are drunke. Their humanity is a legge to the Residencer, their learning a Chapter, for they learne it commonly before they read it, yet the old Hebrew names are little beholding to them, for they mis-call them worse then one another. Though they neuer expound the Scripture, they handle it much, and pollute the Gospel with two things, their Conuersation, and their thumbes. VponUpon Worky-dayes they behaue themselues at Prayers as at their Pots, for they swallow them downe in an instant. Their Gownes are lac'd cōmonly with streamings of Ale, the superfluites of cups, or throat aboue measure. Their skill in melody makes them the better companions abroad, and their Anthemes abler to sing Catches. Long-liu'd for the most part they are not, especially the base, they ouer-flow their banke so oft to drowne the Organs. Briefly, if they escape arresting, they dye constantly in Gods Seruice; and to take their death with more patience, they hauehave Wine and Cakes at their Funerall: and now they keepe the Church a great deale better, and helpe to fill it with their bones as before with their noise.
33. A Pretender to Learning.
IS one that would make others more fooles then himselfe; for though hee know nothing, he would not hauehave the world know so much. He conceits nothing in Learning but the opinion, which he seekes to purchase without it, though hee might with lesse labour cure is ignorance, then hide it. He is indeed a kind of Scholler-Mountebank, and his Art, our delusion. He is trickt out in all the accoutrements of Learning, and at the first encounter none passes better. He is oftner in his study, then at his Booke, and you cannot pleasure him better, then to deprehend him. Yet he heares you not til the third knocke, and then comes out very angry, as interrupted. You find him in his Slippers, and a Pen in his eare, in which formality he was asleep. His Table is spred wide with some Classicke Folio, which is as constant to it as the carpet, and hath laid open in the same Page this halfe yeare. His Candle is alwayes a longer sitter vp then himselfe, and the boast of his Window at Midnight. He walkes much alone in the Posture of Meditation, and ha's a Booke still before his face in the fields. His pocket is seldome without a Greeke Testament, or Hebrew Bible, which hee opens only in the Church, and that when some stander by lookes ouer. He has his sentences for Company, some scatterings of Seneca and Tacitus, which are good vponupon all occasions. If hee read any thing in the morning, it comes vp all at dinner: and as long as that lasts, the discourse is his. He is a great Plagiarie of Tauerne-wit: and comes to Sermons onelyonly that he may talke of Austin. His Parcels are the meere scrapings frō Company, yet he complains at parting what time he has lost. He is wondrously capricious to seem a iudgement, and listens with a soure attention, to what he vnderstands not: He talkes much of Scaliger and Causabone, and the Iesuites, and prefers some vnheard-of Dutch name before them all. He has verses to bring in vponupon these and these hints, and it shall goe hard but he will wind in his opportunity. He is criticall in a language hee cannot conster, and speaks seldome vnderunder Arminius in Diuinity. His businesse and retirement and caller away is his Study, and he protests no delight to it comparable. Hee is a great Nomen-clator of Authors, which hee has read in generall in the Catalogue, and in particular in the Title, and goes seldome so farre as the Dedication. Hee neuer talkes of any thing, but learning, and learnes all from talking. Three incounters with the same men pumpe him, and then hee onelyonly puts in, or grauely sayes no thing. He has taken paines to be an Asse, though not to be a Scholler, and is at length discouered and laught at.
34. A Shop-keeper.
HIs Shop is his wel stuft Booke, and himselfe the Title-page of it, or Index. Hee vtters much to all men, though he sels but to a few, and intreates for his owne necessities by asking others what they lacke. No man speakes more and no more, for his words are like his Wares, twentie of one sort, and he goes ouer them alike to all commers. He is an arrogant commender of his owne things; for whatsoeuer hee shewes you, is the best in the Towne, though the worst in his Shop. His Conscience was a thing, that would hauehave layde vponupon his hands, and he was forc't to put it off: and makes great vse of honestie to professe vponupon. Hee tels you lyes by rote, and not minding, as the Phrase to sell in, and the Language hee spent most of his yeeres to learne. He neuer speakes so truely, as when hee sayes hee would vse you as his Brother, for hee would abuse his Brother; & in his Shop, thinkes it lawfull. His Religion is much in the nature of his Customers, and indeed the Pander to it: and by a misinterpreted sense of Scripture makes a gaine of his Godlinesse. Hee is your slaue while you pay him ready Money, but if hee once be-friend you, your Tyrant, and you had better deserue his hate then his trust.
35. A handsome Hostesse.
IS the fairer commendation of an Inne, aboue the faire Signe or faire Lodgings. She is the Loadstone that attracts men of Iron, Gallants and Roarers, where they cleaue sometimes long, and are not easily got off. Her Lips are your wel-come, and your entertainement her companie, which is put into the reckoning too, and is the dearest parcell in it▪ No Citizens wife is demurer then shee at the first greeting, nor drawes in her mouth with a chaster simper, but you may be more familiar without distaste, and shee do's not startle at Baudrie. She is the confusion of a Pottle of Sacke more then would hauehave beene spent els-where, and her little Iugs are accepted, to hauehave her Kisse excuse them. Shee may be an honest woman, but is not beleeu'd so in her Parish, and no man is a greater In fidel in it then her Husband.
36. A Blunt Man.
IS one whose wit is better pointed then his behauiour, and that course, and Impollisht not out of ignorance so much as humour. He is a great enemy to the fine Gentleman, and these things of Complement, and hates ceremonie in conuersation, as the Puritan in Religion. Hee distinguishes not betwixt faire and double-dealing, and suspects all smoothnesse for the dresse of knauerie. Hee starts at the encounter of a Salutation, as an assault, and beseeches you in choller to forbeare your courtesie. Hee loues not any thing in Discourse that comes before the purpose, and is alwaies suspicious of a Preface. Himselfe fals rudely still on his matter without any circumstance, except hee vse an old Prouerbe for an Introduction. He sweares olde out of date innocent othes, as by the Masse, by our Ladie, and such like; and though there bee Lords present, hee cryes my Masters. Hee is exceedingly in louelove with his Humour, which makes him alwayes professe and proclaime it, and you must take what he sayes patiently, because he is a plaine man. His nature is his excuse still and other mens Tyrant for hee must speake his mind, and that is his worst, and craues your perdon most iniuriously for not Pardoning you. His Iests best become him, because they come from him rudely and vnaffected: and hee has the lucke commonly to hauehave them famous. Hee is one that will doe more then he will speake, and yet speake more then hee will heare: for though hee louelove to touch others, hee is teachy himselfe, and seldome to his own abuses replyes but with his Fists. Hee is as squeazie of his commendations as his courtesie, and his good word is like an Elogie in a Satyre. Hee is generally better fauour'd then hee fauours, as being commonly well expounded in his bitternesse, and no man speaks treason more securely. Hee chides great men with most boldnesse, and is counted for it an honest fellow. Hee is grumbling much in the behalfe of the Common-wealth, and is in Prison oft for it with credit. Hee is generally honest, but more generally thought so, and his downe-rightnesse credits him, as a man not wel bended and crookned to the times. In conclusion, hee is not easily bad, in whom this qualitie is Nature, but the counterfeit is most dangerous since he is disguis'd in a humour, that professes not to disguise.
37. A Criticke.
IS one that has speld ouer a great many of Bookes, and his obseruation is the Orthographie. Hee is the Surgeon of old Authors, and heales the wounds of dust and ignorance. He conuerses much in fragments and Desunt multa's, and if he piece it vp with two Lines, he is more proud of that Booke then the Authour. Hee runnes ouer all Sciences to peruse their Syntaxis, and thinkes all Learning compris'd in writing Latine. Hee tastes Styles, as some discreeter Palats doe Wine; and tels you which is Genuine, which Sophisticate and bastard. His owne Phrase is a Miscellanie of old words, deceas'd long before the Caesars, and entoomb'd by Varro, and the modern'st man hee followes is Plautus. Hee writes Omneis at length, and quidquid, and his Gerund is most inconformable. Hee is a trouble troublesome vexer of the dead, which after so long sparing must rise vp to the Iudgement of his castigations. He is one that makes all Bookes sell dearer, whilst he swels them into Folio's with his Comments.
38. A Sergeant or Catch-pole.
IS one of Gods Iudgement; and which our Roarers doe onelyonly conceiue terrible. Hee is the properest shape wherein they fancie Satan; for hee is at most but an Arrester, and Hell a Dungeon. Hee is the Creditors Hawke, wherewith they seaze vponupon flying Birds, and fetch them againe in his Tallons. He is the Period of young Gentlemen, or their full stop, for when hee meetes with them they can goe no farther. His Ambush is a Shop-Stall, or close Lane, and his Assault is cowardly at your backe. Hee respites you in no place but a Tauerne, where hee sels his Minutes dearer then a Clocke-maker. The common way to runne from him, is through him, which is often attempted and atchieued, and no man is ofter beaten out of Chatitie. Hee is one makes the streete more dangerous then the High-wayes, and men goe better prouided in their walkes then their Iourney. Hee is the first handsell of the young Rapiers of the Templers, and they are as proud of his repulse, as an Hungarian of killing a Turke. He is a moueable Prison, and his hands two Manacles hard to be fil'd off. He is an occasioner of di…loyal thoughts in the Common-wealth, for he makes men hate the Kings Name worse then the Deuils.
37. A weake Man.
IS one whom Nature huddled vp in hast, and left his best part vnfinish't. The rest of him is growne to bee a man, onelyonly his braine stayes behind. Hee is a man that ha's not improou'd his first rudiments, nor attain'd any proficiencie by his stay in the world: but wee may speake of him yet as when hee was in the budde a good harmelesse nature, a well meaning mind, if hee could order his intentions. It is his misery that hee now most wants a Tutor, and is too old to hauehave one. Hee is two steps aboue a foole, and a great many mo below a wise-man: yet the foole is oft giuen him, and by those whom he esteems most. Some tokens of him are. He loues men better vponupon relation then experience: for he is exceedingly enamour'd of Strangers, and none quicklier a weary of his friend. Hee charges you at first meeting with all his secrets, and on better acquaintance growes more reseru'd. Indeed he is one that mistakes much his abusers for friends, and his friends for enemies, and hee apprehends your hate in nothing so much, as in good counsell. One that is flexible with any thing but reason, and then only peruerse; & you may better intice then perswade him. A seruant to eueryevery tale and flatterer, & whom the last man still works ouer. A great affecter of wits and such pretinesses; and his company is costly to him, for he seldom ha's it but inuited. His friendship commonly is begun in a supper and lost in lending money. The Tanerne is a dangerous place to him, for to drinke and to be drunke, is with him all one, and his braine is sooner quenchd then his thirst. He is drawn into naughtines with company, but suffers alone, and the Bastard commonly laid to his charge. One that will bee patiently abus'd, and take exceptions a MonethMonth after when he vnderstands it, and then not endeare him more then by coozening him, and it is a temptation to those that would not. One discouerable in all sillinesses to all men but himselfe, & you may take any mans knowledge of him better then his owne. Hee will promise the same thing to twentie, and rather then denie one breake with all. One that ha's no power o're himselfe, o're his businesse, o're his friends: but a prey and pitie to all: and if his fortunes once sinke, men quickly crie alas, and forget him.
40. A Tobacco-seller.
IS the onelyonly man that finds good in it which others brag of, but doe not; for it is meate, drinke, and clothes to him. No man opens his ware with greater seriousnesse, or challenges your iudgement more in the approbation. His Shop is the Randeuous of spitting, where men dialogue with their noses, and their communication is smoke. It is the place onelyonly where Spaine is commended and prefer'd before England it selfe. He should be well experienc'd in the world: for he ha's daily tryall of mens nostrils, and none is better acquainted with humors. Hee is the piecing commonly of some other trade, which is bawd to his Tobacco, and that to his wife, which is the flame that followes this smoke.