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Compiler: Margaret Bellasys
Online: CELM FolgerFirstLines LibCat

I keep my horse, I keep my whore,
I take no rents, yet am not poor.
I travel all the land about,
And yet was born to ne’re a foot.
with partridge plump, & woodcocke fine,
I do midnight often I use to dine.
And if my whore be not in case,
My hostess' daughter takes her place.
The maids sit up, & watch their turns,
If I stay long the tapster mourns.
The cook-maid has no mind to sin,
Though tempted by the Chamberlain
But when I knock, O how how they bustle,
The Ostler yawns, the Geldings justle.
If maid but sleep, O how they curse her!
And all this comes, deliver your purse, Sir.
By Latrocinio, in The Widow (3.1.22-37), Thomas Middleton
in British Library Additional MS 10309, f. 96r

By Ben Jonson
Still to be neat, still to be dressed,
As you were going to a feast;
Still to be powdered, still perfumed
lady it is to be perfumed
Though arts hid causes are not found
All is not sweet, all is not sound.
Give me a look, give me a face
That makes simplicity a grace:
robes loosely flowing, hair as free.
Such sweet neglect more taketh me.
than all th'adulteries of art
They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
By , in not in source (1.1.71-82), not in source
in British Library Additional MS 10309, f. 100v

By Ben Jonson
Come my Caelia let us prove
While we can the sports of Love
Time will not be ours for ever
He at length our good will sever
spend not then his giftes in vain
Suns that set, may rise again.
But if once we lose this light
'Tis with us perpetual night
Why should we defer our joys
Fame, & Rumour, are but toys.
Cannote we delude the eyes?
Of a few poor household spies.
Or his easier ears beguile,
Thus removèd by our wile.
It's no sin loves fruits to steal,
But the sweet thefts to reveal.
To be taken, to be seneseene>
These have crimes accounted been.
By Volpone, in Volpone (3.7.164-182), Ben Jonson
in British Library Additional MS 10309, f.117r

Verses before a Masque
Gentlemen you are welcome, but not from me,
For god’s my judge, do but let you see
Men; whom of late, from out the Northerns sands
The sea belched up, upon our fruitful lands,
They are all males, put yo u but females to’um
They will not stick in bawdy terms to woo them
I brought them hither for to make yo u sport
And when that’s done we will whip them to the court.
They’re skilled in horn pipes, Jigs, & country-rounds
God save King James, the devil take his hounds.
By not in source, in not in source (unknown), not in source
in British Library Additional MS 10309, f.140v