LUNA: Folger Manuscript Transcriptions Collection
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A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].
Part I. When reading Part I, Part II is inverted and reversed.
Burlington, Richard Boyle, Earl of, 1612-1698, compiler.
Source Created or Published:
folio 40 verso || folio 41 recto
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As Dogs are Scar'd from houses where ye Boyes Tie to there vailes a rattle or such toyes This furious foe doth some soe much appall As they for safetie flie to th' Hospitall O others with Bisket like beleaguerd men Susteine in compasse of a priuate Denn A meager hunger which oftimes doth last As longe as did renowned Moises fast Doth not this mooue thee, sure thou wouldst not ^turne Hadst thou seene Sodom & Gomorrah burne Doe, then, goe on, & let thy thin pox giue Example to the bad world how to liue Or grant thee pox proofe which I false doe know Oh doe but thinke how dreadfull it would Shew At midnight in thy Bawdie roome to view The grim fac't Constable with all his crue Black D r Faustus at his direfull end Summon'd to yeeld his Soule to th'rghly friend Could not bee more agast: oh then forbeare A bed that must a walking Holbert feare Yet doe the Diuell right I must confesse Those common houses haue this happinesse Thou page break 41. Thou shalt bee none of those soe rich Soe proude That through an Needles eye to Heauen must croude But rather like that Strong Philosopher Whoe all his household Stuffe at once could beare Nay I haue knowne Some hotter Letchers Soone Turne their warme cloakes into a could Battoone There faces yet Stood red with Pimples through As if Still soultrie hot did euer glowe Lord now my thinkes I see thy sunday cloke Hange vp at Greyes iust as of old ye Oake Of Mars tir'd Souldiers armes did beare when they Had safe arriued through many a cruell fray If all this mooue thee not, yet let there bee For my sake one from thy wild fier free Oh let not Frank that honnest friend of mine Whome fate hath kept from Bridwell descipline At last for all her old past frailties cry Feeling worse Smart by thy hot company Pre [i] thee let honnest Henry find a Bit Of merry vice by thee not tainted yet But oh scorne halfe crowne houses they will shake Thee soluble while thy wrong taile doth take The Parlor for an house of office tie First let thy girdle and thy hatband flie
Transcriptions made by Shakespeare's World volunteers (shakespearesworld.org), participants in EMROC classes and transcribathons (emroc.hypotheses.org), participants in Folger paleography classes and transcribathons, and Folger docents.