Sir Martin Mar-people
his Coller of Esses
What can be said: when so much said
can nought prevaile with men:
What signes, what threats, what words, what works,
from sage Experience pen,
Are extant in these dismal daies, to alter mans amisse:
But yet (ah wo to us therefore) no Reformation is
Of sinful life: the lesse our praise, the greater our perdition,
The more our woe, the lesse our weale, the neerer our destruction.
For Time brings ought to nought we see, & nought in time's amended
Our God, our prince (our cause of peace) from time to times offended.
Our Peace (I say) procures our Pride, our Pride our Lust inflameth,
Our peace, our pride and lawless lust, our graceless lives defameth:
Our Plentie springing from our Peace, is spent in sports uncleanly,
Such sports uncleane in Christians are most odious and unseemly.
Now Vice doth vaunt, that Vertues brightnesse she hath quite obscur'd,
The brightest beauty Vertue had, now Vice hath cleane devour'd
O wicked age, O doting daies, wherein such illes are found,
Wherein such cares, wherein such woes, wherin such vice abound:
O gracelesse world, how far thou art, from that of yore thou wast,
When kingly Saturn raign'd, but now, that golden world is past:
Thy beauty's blemisht with reproch, from whence thy shame proceed,
From good to ill, from ill to woorse, now art thou falne indeed.
What shroude may serve to hide thy shame, what volumes can containe
The brief'st descriptIon of thy faults, which doth thy favour staine:
The wisest wits are found too weake, the cunningst Clearks want skill
Particularly t'expresse the sinnes, in thee abounding stil.
Such irreligious minds in men, such hollow hearts in manie:
Such Ianus-faced fauning friends, small trust is found in any:
Such deep deceit in countenance coucht, such treason hid intrust,
Such filthy fraud in friendly speech, such dealings most uniust:
Such murderous mischiefs, rigorous rapes in savage wise perfourmed
Such little care of conscience now, such periuries suborned:
Such brothell, baudrie, bugrie, and inhumaine shape to be
Such monstrous brutish beastlinesse, a woonder tis to see,
Such huge oppression of the poore, where pitie should abound,
Such discord in opinions now, the simple soule to wound,
Sir Martin Mar-people,
Such restlesse iarring for all ieasts, and things of no account,
Such seeking for preheminence, by others fal to mount:
Such posting after peevish praise, that soone will fade and perish,
Such smal regard of Orphanes poore, which God commands to cherish,
Such prowling still for private gaine, such hunting after wealth,
Such little heed of soules disease, such care of bodies health.
Such raging madnesse in the minds of franticke fooles a number,
Such brainsicke brawling mongst the bad, which doo the good encomber
Such partial iudgments in the Iudge, for whom the Iudge do favour,
Such iustice, Iudge and iudgements too, doth of iniustice savour.
Such wringing of the lawes awrie, for Lady Lucars love,
Such huge exactions from the poore, which to their paine they proove.
Such ravenous robbing by the way, such picking in the Citie,
Such desperate moodes in graceless men, bereft of christian pitie:
Such laughing at each others losse, such griefe at others gaine,
Such persecuting silly soules, such pleasure in their paine.
Such emulation mongst the rich, such strife amongst the poore,
Such small releefe to such as hunger drives from dore to dore.
Such discontents in all estates, such climing for promotion,
Such great hipocrisie in zeale, to God such small devotion
Such swearing by the precious parts of him, whose painful passion
Such pardon purchac'd as preserves, the faithfull from damnation.
Such preaching ne'er in any age was us'd, as now it is,
Such teaching former times did lacke, and yet is all amisse.
Such arguing of the force of faith, whil'st workes are left undone,
Such blessed words, such cursed workes, cannot accord in one,
Such superfinenesse in each sex, the outward part t'adorne,
Such robes as should the soule array, to rotten rags are worne.
Such beastlie minds in bodies brave, such craft in clownish graie,
Such clownish craftes full hardly spied, til triall it bewraie.
Such fauning mates that flattery use, such hath the world in price,
Such are embrac'd, whose witching words, can ytching eares intice.
Such treasons practiz'd gainst the Prince, by subiects most unkind,
Such heards of bloody Homicides, that are to blood inclinde:
Such havock made, since wilful Wil hath uncontrolled raign'd,
Such heapes of harmes increasing still, since Wil hath will maintain'd
Such matchlesse Machivilian mates, with such the world doth swarme,
Such skil they have to smile when they intend the greatest harme.
Such protastations in pretence of friendly favours ever,
his Coller of Esses.
Such solemne vowes of friendships deeds, yet are perfourmed never,
Such Saints in shew, such devils in deed, ne'er liv'd on earth I weene:
Such clusters of Camelions, I thinke was never seene:
Such feedes upon the simple sort, for such they lie in waite,
Such suckes the marrow of their bones, in whom is no deceit.
Such, yea, such still lurking lies, t'intrap the honest mind,
Such sees with Argus hundred eies, and yet they seeme most blind.
Such witty wiles we have to wrap our soules in Sathans web,
Such great ungraciousnes doth flow, and goodnes still dooth eb.
Such outward paintings to amend the works of God and Nature:
Such sinfull sleightes devisde there are, to grace the forme and stature.
Such trash (I say) offends our God, such toyes he nill indure,
Such pride his plagues and vengeance iust, agaynst us dooth procure.
Such foule immodest filth of ours, his heavenly eies offends,
Such paintings are hte lines of lust, that unto lewdnesse tends:
Such filthy fairenesse spots the soule with foule abhominations,
Such faire ones that such filth doo use, have cause to feare damnation.
Such care to keep such faults unspied, from worlds uncertaine sight,
Such proanesse to offend our God, whose iudgments still are right.
Such boldnesse in our civivill broiles, such dread in Trueths defence,
Such cowardize in Conscience cause, such feare of mans offence.
Such coldnesse in the service which to God is onely due,
Such hot desire of change therin, though woorser doo ensue:
Such great contempt of Magistrates, whose power we reverce should,
Such rash rebelliosn in our realmes, such mischiefes manifold,
Such glorie in terretiall trash, such trash our glorie is,
Such glory's vaine, vain=glory such, wil bar our soules from blisse,
Such carking stil for cankered coine, such litle care of honesty,
Such sucking blood, such cutting throates, such practizing of villany.
Such bragging of our beastlinesse, such boasting of our sinne,
Such glutting of our greedy guts, such myre we wallow in.
Such thyrsting after fell Revenge, for every trifling wrong,
Such frailty cannot scape unscourg'd, though God it suffer long.
Such cloking of our faults with fees, such blinding of Authorty,
Such gifts bestowde where need is none, such litle love and charity.
Such liberall feasting of the Fat, and famishing the Leane,
Such lifting up the Foule aloft, and pulling down the Cleane.
Such carping at the time of such, as Time hath Traitors made,
Such putting on the golden sheath upon the leaden blade
Sir Martin Mar-people,
Such carefull furthering of the rich, such crossing of the poore,
Such wresting from the widow, and such pulling from her store.
Such wicked matches daily made, from whence much mischiefe spring,
Such running hedlong to the Deuil for every trifling thing.
Such winking at the faults of some, such plaguing others guilt,
Such riotous spending, and such spoiles, such wealth by wantons spilt:
Such hunting of the whorish crue, such haunting of their houses,
Such great disorder everywhere, such heapes of huge abuses.
Such raising rents, such doubling fines, such slender hospitality,
Such costly fare, yet nothing spare, for men in great calamity.
Such lending out for lawlesse lone, such great oppression used,
Such statute=Merchants now requyr'd, nay, such are oft refused:
Such cracking credits, which of yore was carefully kept unviolate,
Such rechlesnesse in that respect with men of great estate,
Such wailing of poore wightes opprest, such cries of men in misery,
Such small regard of their distresse that pine in extreame poverty.
Such lothing of the low estate, such hating of the hie,
Such puffing pride in mounting mindes, such pleasing of the eie:
Such ranckour rusting in the mind, such mindes of vile condition,
Such frowardnesse in every man, such hatefull disposition.
Such great extortion in each towne, such polling in each citie
Such deepe dissembling in the Court, such cogging in the country.
Such spight and gallie bytternesse extended to our brother,
Such burning hearts within our breasts, such envieing one another.
Such quelling of the quiet man, such questions daily rising,
Such factions and such busie braines, contentions still devising.
Such slandring of the innocent, such vexing of the vertuous,
Such wronging of the wel-dispos'd, such favouring the vicious:
Such disagreement in the words and deeds of every man,
Such cursed contrariety, the Lord of hostes doth ban:
Such wicked Wolves, like Lambes attyr'd, of such the world is full,
Such from the bones of silly sheepe, the flesh and fleece do pull:
Such crafty Crocadils that weepes, til they their praie have caught,
With such the earth's replenisht now, with such the world is fraught.
Such baudy bookes abounding now for sinfull delectation,
Such printed are under pretence of honest recreation.
Such wicked workes will worke their woe, that in such works delight,
Such pleasant poison slaies the soules, and suffocates the sprite.
Such volumes vile such venome have, as soon corrupts the readers,
his Coller of Esses.
Such readers commonly are such, as unto vice are leaders.
Such idle drones are such I say, that lives by others toile,
Such puffes their panch by others paines, such spends by others spoile,
Such caitiffes in the common wealth, like Cankers seem to bee,
Such Cankers breed in it such cares, as ruth it is to see.
Such hanging up, and yet such store of such do still abound,
Such executions every where, yet still such fends are found:
Such Burglaries perfourm'd with blood, lik butchers mercilesse,
Such vild Herodian crueltie, no tongue can well expresse.
Such cut=throat carving all for coine, to clothe and cram the carkasse,
Such pinching for to spare our pence, t'inlarge our lands by purchase:
Such scowring of the surging seas, for things of no availe,
Such desperate dangers undertane, for fancies which doo faile:
Such doting on our daintie Dames, such paines to shew them pleasure,
Such mone we make, if once they mourne, if glad: Glad out of measure.
Such feeding of their humors vaine, such fighting for their favour,
Such large expences for their love, such dread of their disfavour.
Such is the care, the cursed care, of such as Christians seeme,
Such seeming Christians with such cares, their Christ doo not esteeme.
Such brazen faced boldnesse now's in beauties dainty die,
Such wanton lookes inticing lust, for her lascivious eie.
Such tricks such toies, such sportes, such ioyes the God of heave~ offends,
Such vild licencious lusts of ours, our soules to Sathan sends.
Such delicacie, such delights, such divelish daintinesse,
Such filthy foule deformities were hatcht in hell (I guesse)
Such severall sinnes of sundrie sort, such sorts of sinners vile,
The sea, the earth, the fire and ayer, they al with sinne defile.
Too weake I find my memorie to mention every sinne,
The numbers are so infinite which now we wallow in.
But Zeuxes drew a vaile on that, he wanted skill t'expresse,
So I for want of skill herein, am forc'd to do no lesse:
And leave untoucht such cursed crimes, as Christians blot with blame,
For which they doe right well deserve the shrowding sheet of shame.
Then lets consider the estate of wretched mortal life,
What cares & crosses, plagues & paines, what woes & stormes of strife
Attends thereon: that wel's the man which soonest is from hence,
Fir while we live, we living die in sin and foule offence:
Our daies (as holy David saith) in lnegth are but a span,
Our time is like a blast of winde, soone come, and quickly gone.
Sir Martin Mar-people,
The great revenewes we possesse, our wealth, our friends and all,
We must forsake (though nere so loth) when pleaseth God to call,
Yet such is the condition of this vale of vaine delights,
It so bewitcheth all our thoughtes, and ravisheth our sprights.
Whilst here we are, that litle thought we have of heaven or hell,
But feed our vaines, like Epicures, whilst we on earth do dwell.
This world is such a Syren sweet, enchanting with her voice,
Her laies and warbling Lullabies, our sleeping soules reioice,
Her pleasures rockes us fast on sleep, in cradle of security,
Whilst Sathan lurks in shape unseene, to take his opportunity.
O wayward, wicked, wanton world, O gaping gulfe of griefe,
O sinke of sinne, O sea of shame, of miseries the chiefe.
O cursed Caos, so confusde with heapes of hatefull sinne,
O Laborinth most intricate, for turnings out and in.
Thy painted shewes are shadowes vaine, which vanish with the Sun,
Thy greatest glory shall decay, when mortall life is done.
Who trusts a broken staffe, we see, doe fall ere they be ware,
Who sowes his seed in mischiefes mould, shall reape the crop of care.
What meane we then so much to make, of such uncertaine trash,
Which, at unwares, when least we ween, wil leave us in the lash:
All these and thousands more such illes, which in this world we find,
Are motives which should moove us al, an other world to mind.
That world where the triumphant Church from such extreams is free,
Where God in matchlesse glory raignes, there should we long to be:
Where holy ones with heavenly hymmes, do laud his blessed name,
Where Halleluiahes sweet are sung, in honor of the same:
Where that which Paule could not expresse, the same do there abound,
Where sweet of sweets, wher blisse of blisse, wher ioy of ioies are found.
Yea, there, ah there, if once we were, then should we happy be,
Til there we find this happinesse, unhappy stil are we.
Then let us leave this wretched world, and cleave unto the Lord,
And turne from all our wicked waies, in thought, in deed and word:
That God from us may turne his plagues, which we deserved have,
That whilst we live, we so do live, that he our soules may save.
That when our lives give place to death, then death may swallowed be
Of life again, in heaven to dwell with God in persons three:
In endlesse glory there to rest, and that it so befall,
My heart, my mind, my tongue and lips doo pray: Amen say al.
F I N I S