Without redresse complaines my carelesse verse, Mongst them that will be mou'd when I shall groane. Adieu vnkinde, where skill is nothing woorth. This poem, together with a portion of the early part of the work, has been quoted in the Cens. Liter., vol. vii, p. 78, and Ritson in his Bibliog. Poet., p. 284, alluding to Nash's introduction of pieces of poetry in his numerous pamphlets, adds, "particularly some lines vehemently passionate, in Pierce Penilesse his supplication to the Diuell, 1595, which mistress Cooper pronounces the strongest picture of rage and despair that she ever met with." For the sake of the allusions it contains to early celebrated writers, and as a specimen of the style and matter of this once popular work, we present our readers with a quotation: With the enemies of Poetrie I care not if I haue a bout and those are they that tearme our best Writers but babling Ballat-makers, holding them fantasticall fooles, that haue wit, but cannot tell how to vse it. I myselfe haue been so censured among some dulheaded Diuines: who deeme it no more cunning to wryte an exquisite Poem, than to preach pure Calvin, or distill the iustice of a Commentary in a quarter Sermon. Prooue it when you will, you slowe spirited Saturnists, that haue nothing but the pilfries of your penne, to pollish an exhortation withall: no eloquence but Tautologies, to tie the eares of your Auditorye unto you: no inuention but heere is to bee noted, I stoale this note out of Beza or Marlorat: no wit to mooue, no passion to urge, but onelye an ordinarie forme of preaching, blowne vp by use of often hearing and speaking: and you shall finde there goes more exquisite paines and puritie of witte, to the writing of one such rare Poem as Rosamond, than to a hundred of your dunsticall Sermons. Should we (as you) borrowe all out of others, and gather nothing of our selues, our names should bee baffuld on euerie Booke-sellers Stall, and not a Chandlers mustard-pot but would wipe his mouthe with our wast paper. Newe Herrings, new, wee must crye, euery time wee make our selues publique, or else we shall bee christened with a hundred newe tytles of Idiotisme. Nor is Poetrie an Arte, whereof there is no use in a mans whole lyfe, but to describe discontented thoughts and youthfull desires: for there is no studie, but it dooth illustrate and beautifie. How admirablie shine those Diuines aboue the common mediocritie, that haue tasted the sweete springs of Pernassus? Siluer tongu'd Smith whose well tun'd stile hath made thy death the general teares of the Muses, queintlie couldst thou deuise heauenly Ditties to Appoloes Lute, and teach stately verse to trip it as smoothly, as if Ouid and thou had but one soule. Hence alone did it proceed, that thou wert such a plausible pulpit man that before thou entredst into the rough waies of Theologie, thou refinedst, preparedst, and purifiedst thy minde with sweete Poetrie. If a simple mans censure may be admitted to speake in such an open Theater of opinions, I neuer saw aboundant reading better mixt with delight, or sentences which no man can challenge of profane affectation, sounding more melodious to the eare, or piercing more deepe to the heart. To them that demaund what fruites the Poets of our time bring forth, or wherein they are able to proue themselues necessary to the state: Thus I answere. First and formost they haue cleansed our language from barbarisme and made the vulgar sort here in London (which is the fountaine whose riuers flowe round about England) to aspire to a richer puritie of speach, than is communicated with the Comminaltie of of any Nation under heauen. The vertuous by their praises they encourage to be more vertuous, to vicious men, they are as infernall hags to haunt their ghosts with eternall infamie after death. The Souldier in hope to haue his high deeds celebrated by their pens, despiseth a whole armie of perills, and acteth wonders exceeding all humane coniecture. Those that care neither for God nor the divell, by their quills are keept in awe. Multi famam (saith one) pauci conscientiam verentur. Let God see what he will, they would be loath to haue the shame of the world. What age will not praise immortal Sir Philip Sidney, whom noble Salustius (that thrice siguler french Poet) hath famoused :-together with Sir Nicholas Bacon Lord keeper, and merry Sir Thomas Moore, for the chiefe pillers of our english speech. Not so much but Chaucers host, Baly in Southwarke, and his wife of Bath he keeps such a stirre with, in his Canterbury tales, shall be talkt of whilst the Bath is us'de, or there be euer a bad house in Southwork. Gentles, it is not your lay Chronigraphers, that write of nothing but of Mayors and Sheriffs and the deare yeere, and the great Frost, that can endowe your names with neuer dated glory: for they want the wings of choise words to fly to heauen, which we haue: they cannot sweeten a discourse, or wrest admiration from men reading, as we can: reporting the meanest accident. Poetry is the hunny of all flowers, the quintessence of all Sciences, the marrowe of Witte, and the very Phrase of Angels: how much better is it then to have an eligant Lawier to plead one's cause, than a stutting Townsman that loseth himselfe in his tale, and doth nothing but make legs: so much it is better for a Nobleman or Gentleman, to haue his honours story related, and his deedes emblazoned by a Poet, than a Citizen. Alas! poor latinlesse Authors, they are so simple they know not what they doe; They no sooner spy a new Ballad, and his name to it that compilde it; but they put him in for one of the learned men of our time. I maruell how the Masterlesse men, that set up their bills in Paules for seruices, and such as paste vp their papers on euery post, for Arithmetique and writing Schooles, scape eternity amongst them: I beleeue both they and the Knight Marshals men, that nail vp mandates at the Court gate, for annoying the Pallace with filth, or making water, if they set their names to the writing, will shortly make vp the number of the learned men of our time, and be as famous as the rest. For my part I do challenge no praise of learning to my selfe, yet have I worne a gowne in the Universitie, and so hath caret tempus non habet moribus: but this I dare presume that if any Mecanas binde me to him by his bounty VOL. V. PART I. H or extend some sound liberalitie to mee worth the speaking of, I will doo him as much honour as any Poet of my beardlesse yeeres shall in England. Not that I am so confident what I can doe, but that I attribute so much to my thankfull minde aboue others, which I am perswaded would enable me to worke myracles. On the contrary side, if I bee euill intreated, or sent away with a Flea in mine eare, let him looke that I will raile on him soundly: not for an houre or a day, whiles the iniury is fresh in my memory; but in some elaborate pollished Poem, which I will leaue to the world when I am dead, to be a liuing Image to all ages, of his beggerly parsimony and ignoble illiberalitie: and let him not (whatsoeuer he be) measure the weight of my words by this booke, where I write Quicquid in buccam venerit, as fast as my hand can trot but I haue tearmes (if I be vext) laid in sleepe in Aquafortis, and gunpowder that shall rattle through the Skyes, and make an Earthquake in a Peasants eares. He has then, as usual, a fling at Gabriel Harvey, whom he introduces in the following passage: Put case (since I am not yet out of the Theames of wrath) that some tride Jade belonging to the Presse, whom I neuer wronged in my life; hath named me expressely in Print (as I will not do him) and accuse me of want of learning, upbraiding me for reuiuing in an epistle of mine the reuerent memory of Sir Thomas Moore, Sir lohn Cheeke, Doctor Watson, Doctor Haddon, Doctor Carre, Maister Asham, as if they were no meate but for his Maisterships mouth, or none but some such as the son of a ropemaker were worthy to mention them. To shewe how I can raile, thus would I begin to raile on him: Thou that hadst thy hood turned ouer thy eares when thou wert a Batchelor, for abusing of Aristotle, and setting him upon the Schoole gates painted with asses eares on his head is it any discredit for me, thou great babound, thou Pigmie Braggart, thou Pamphleter of nothing but Peants, to bee censwred by thee, that hast scorned the Prince of Philosophers; thou that in thy Dialogues soldst Hunny for a halpeny, and the choycest Writers extant for cues a peece, that comest to the Logicke Schooles when thou wert a Freshman and writst phrases; off with thy gowne and untresse, for I meane to lash thee mightily. Thou hast a Brother hast thou not, student in Almanackes, go too, Ile stand to it, fathered one of thy bastards (a booke I meane) which being of thy begetting was set forth under his name. He then falls foul of his brother Richard Harvey, who published a work called "An Astrological Discourse upon the Conjunction of Saturne and Iupiter, which shall happen the 28 day of April, 1583." Lond. 8vo., which occasioned great consternation at the time throughout the whole country, and which Nash ridicules in the following passage: Gentlemen, I am sure you have hearde of a ridiculous asse that many years since sold lyers by the groat, and wrote an absurd Astrologicall Discourse of the terrible Coniunction of Saturne and Iupiter, wherein (as if hee had lately cast the Heauens water, or beene at the anatomizing of the Skies intrailes in surgeons hall) hee prophecieth of such strange wonders to ensue from stars destemperature, and the unuseall adultrie of planets, as none but he that is Bawd to those celestial bodies, could euer discry. What expectation there was of it both in towne and country, the amazement of those times may testifie: and the rather because he pawned his credit upon it, in these expresse tearmes; If these things fall not out in euery point as I haue wrote, let me for ever hereafter loose the credit of my Astronimie. Well so it happened, that he happened not to be a man of his word; his astronimie broke his day with his creditors, and Saturne and Iupiter prou'd honester men then all the World tooke them for: whereupon, the poore Prognosticator was ready to ruune himselfe through with his Iacobs staffe, and caste himselfe headlong from the top of a Globe (as a mountaine) and breake his necke. The whole Uniuersitie hyst at him, Tarlton at the Theator made iests of him, and Elderton consumed his ale-crammed nose to nothing, in bearbayting him with whole bundles of ballets. Would you in likely reason gesse it were possible for any shame-swolne toad to haue the spetproofe face to out-liue this disgrace. It is deare brethren Viuit imo venit, and which is more, he is a Vicar. Poore Slaue, I pitie thee that thou hadst no more grace but to come in my way. Why could not you haue sate quiet at home, and write Catechismes, but you must be comparing me to Martin? and exclayme against me for reckoning up the high Schollers of worthy memory? Iupiter ingeniis probet sua numina vatum, saith Quid. Teque celebrari quolibat ore sinit. Which if it be so, I hope I am aliquis, and those men quos honoris causa nominaui, are not greater than gods. Me thinks I see thee stand quiuering and quaking, and euen now lift vp thy hands to heauen, as thanking God my choler is somewhat asswag'd: but thou art deceiued, for howeuer I let fall my stile a little to talke in reason with thee that hast none, I do not meane to let thee scape so. Thou hast wronged one for my sake (whom for the name I must loue) T.N. the Maister Butler of Pembrooke Hall, a farre better Scholler than thy selfe (in my iudgement) and one that sheweth more discretion and gouernment, in setting vp a sise of Bread, than thou in all thy whole booke. Why man, thinke no scorne of him for he hath held thee vp a hundred times, whiles the Deane hath giuen thee correction, and thou hast capt and kneed him (when thou wert hungrie) for a chipping. But thats nothing, for hadst thou neuer beene beholding to him, nor holden vp by him, he hath a Beard that is a better gentleman than all thy whole body, and a graue countenance like Cato, able to make thee run out of thy wits for feare, if he looke sternly upon thee. I have reade ouer thy Sheepish discourse of the Lambe of God and his enemies, and entreated my patience to be good to thee whilst I reade: but for all that I could doe with myselfe (as I am sure I may doe as much as another man) I could not refraine but bequeath it to the Priuie, leafe by leafe as I read it, it was so ugly, dorbellicall, and lumpish. Monstrous, monstrous, and palpable, not to bee spoken of in a Christian congregation: thou hast skum'd ouer the schoolemen, and of the froth of theyr folly, made a dish of diuinitie Brewesse, which the dogges will not eate. If the Printer have any great dealings with thee, hee were best to get a priuiledge betimes, ad imprimendum solum, forbidding all other to sell waste paper but himselfe, or else he will bee in a wofull taking. The Lambe of God make thee a wiser Bell-weather then thou art, or else I doubt thou wilt be driuen to leaue all and fall to thy father's occupation, which is to goe and make a rope to hang thyself. Neque enim Lex æquior ulla est, quam necis artifices arte perire sua: and so I leaue thee till a better opportunity, to bee tormented world without end, of our Poets and Writers about London, whom thou hast called piperlye Make-playes and Hakebates: not doubting but hee also whom thou tearmest the vaine Pap-hatchet, will have a flurt at thee one day: all jointly driuing thee to this issue; that thou shalt bee constrained to go to the chiefe Beame of thy Benefice, and there beginning a lamentable speech with cur scripsi, cur perii, end with pravum prava decent inuat inconcessa voluptas, and so with a trice, trusse vp thy life in the string of thy Sawcebell. So be it, pray Pen, Incke, and Paper on their knees, that they may not bee troubled with thee any more. "The vaine Pap-hatchet" here alluded to, who would "haue a furt at Gabriel Harvey one day," is supposed to be John Lilly, by whom the curious pamphlet called Pappe with a Hatchet, alias a Figge for my Godsonne, &c., 4to, blk. fett., published in 1589, was supposed to be written, but it has also been attributed to Nash himself, and is given to the latter by Collier in his Ecclesiast. Hist., vol. ii, p. 606. The following is a curious and whimsical description of the different kinds of drunkenness : Nor haue we one or two kinde of drunkards onely, but eight kindes. The first is Ape drunke, and he leapes, and sings, and bellowes, and daunceth for the heauens: the second is Lion drunke, and he flings the pots about the house, calls his Hostesse whore, breakes the glasse windowes with his dagger, and is apt to quarrell with any man that speaks to him: the third is Swine drunke, heauy, bumpish, and sleepie, and cries for a little more drinke, and a few more cloathes: the fourth is Sheepe drunke; wise in his owne conceipt, when he cannot bring foorth a right word: the fifth is Mawdlen drunke, when a fellowe will weepe for kindnes in the midst of his ale, and kisse you, saying, By God, Captaine, I loue thee, goe thy waies, thou dost not thinke so often of me as I do of thee, I would (if it pleased God) I could not loue thee so well as I doo; and then he puts his finger in his eie, and cries: the sixt is Martin drunke, when a man is drunke and drinkes himselfe sober ere he stirre: the seuenth is Goate drunke, when in his drunkennes he hath no minde but on Lechery: the eighth is Foxe drunke, when he is craftie drunke, as many of the Dutchmen bee, will neuer bargaine but when they are drunke. All these species and more I haue seene practised in one Company at one sitting, when I haue beene permitted to remaine sober amongst them, onely to note their seuerall humours. Hee that plies any one of them harde, it will make him to write admirable verses,—to haue a deepe casting head, though hee were neuer so verie a Dunce before. After this there is a defence of the Stage and of Plays, wherein, speaking of their being for the most part borrowed from "the old English Chronicles, |