Contracts a sadder colour, and lesse faire : Or is't the drawer's' skill? hath he no arts sheep: But see the moone is up; view, where she stands 2 Should we goe now a wandring, we should meet With catchpoles, whores and carts in ev'ry street: Now when each narrow lane, each nooke and cave, Signe-posts and shop-doors, pimp for ev'ry knave, 1 Tapster, waiter, as before. G. 2 More accurately, 'catch-poll' = a bailiff's assistant: a derisive name. G. When riotous sinfull plush, and tell-tale spurs Walk Fleet street, and the Strand, when the soft stirs Of bawdy, ruffled silks, turn night to day; And the lowd whip, and coach, scolds all the way; When lust of all sorts, and each itchie bloud From the Tower-wharfe to Cymbeline, and Lud,' Hunts for a mate, and the tyr'd footman recles 'Twixt chaire men, torches, and the hacking wheels: Come, take the other dish; it is to him That made his horse a senatour:2 each brim Looke big as mine: the gallant, jolly beast Of all the herd-you'le say-was not the least. 1 Cymbeline and Lud were statues or images of ancient kings of those names, which formerly occupied niches in the old Lud-Gate. They were not removed until the gate was taken down in 1761-2. The gate stood on Ludgate Hill, betweene the London Tavern and the Church of St. Martin's, Ludgate. Lud was king of Britain and (so the veracious legend runs) built this gate B.C. 66, Cunobelin or Kimbeline was king, 26 B.C. and died 17 A.D. Tower wharf was the eastern limit of old walled London and Ludgate the western. G. 2 Caligula made his horse Incitatus his colleague in the consul-ship, and therefore a senator (Suetonius). If it had been an ass instead, the colleague-ship had been fitting. G. Now crown the second bowle, rich as his worth, I'le drinke it to he, that like fire broke forth Into the Senate's face, crost RUBICON, And the State's pillars, with their lawes thereon: And made the dull gray beards, and furr'd gowns fly Into BRUNDUSIUM to consult, and lye 1 This, to brave Sylla! why should it be sed, Drink deep this cup be pregnant: and the wine Spirit of wit, to make us all divine, That big with sack and mirth we may retyre After full cups have dreames poeticall. And in our merry, mad mirth run 1 Julius Cæsar. G. And let none his cup forsake, Till that starre againe doth wake; So we men below shall move Equally with the gods above. TO AMORET, AMORET, OF THE ARKE, when the Evening's cooler wings M sunne, Leaving undone, What he begunne, Those spurious flames suckt up from slime, and earth To their first, low birth, Resignes, and brings. They shoot their tinsill beames, and vanities, Thredding with those false fires their way; But as you stay And see them stray, You loose the flaming track, and subt❜ly they And cheate your eyes. Just so base, sublanarie lovers' hearts Fed on loose prophane desires, May for an eye, Or face comply: But those removed, they will as soone depart, And shew their art, And painted fires. Whilst I by pow'rfull Loue, so much refin'd, That absent soule the same is, Carelesse to misse, A glance or kisse, Can with those elements of lust and sence, And court the mind. Thus to the North the loadstones move, And thus to them th' canmour'd steel aspires : I doe affect; And thus by wingèd beames, and mutuall fire, And this is Love. P TO AMORET WEEPING. EAVE Amoret, melt not away so fast Thy eyes' faire treasure, Fortune's wealthiest cast Deserves not one such pearle: for these well spent, |