A Fair in Spitalfields
where all the knick-knacks
of astrology
are exposed to open sale,
to all that will see
for their love
and buy for their money.
Where, first,
Mr. William Lilly
presents you with his pack,
wherein he has to sell:
1. The Introduction.
2. Nativities calculated.
3. The Great Ephemerides.
4. Monarchy, or No Monarchy.
5. The Caricature of King Charles.
6. Anus Tenebrosus.
Second,
Nicholas Culpeper
brings under his velvet jacket:
1. His Challenges against the Doctors of Physick.
2. A Pocket Medicine.
3. An Almanack and Conjuring Circle.
Third,
Mr. Bowker
unlocked his pack,
wherein is:
1. The 12. Signs of the Zodiack.
2. The 12. Houses.
3. The 7. Planets.
4. The Year's Predictions,
and the Starry Globe.
Written by
J.B. Gent.
and
Printed by
J.C.
in
the yeare
1652.
The Prologue.
In the greener studies, much I have admir'd
the Muses' rare inventions, and desir'd
for recreation of't; to play upon
the flowery banks of sugared Helicon,
and venturing first to tread the fatal stage
of Love, had fancy for my equipage.
Where having traversed with but small success
the boudless bounds of that vast wilderness,
I found my slagging winges would soon betray
my judgement to a nonplus, since the prey
I aim'd at, soar'd above my reach, and then
resolv'd to cease, I laid aside my pen.
Which for some years repose her drowsy head
in Silence' lap, until awakened
by friends' entreaties, who would needs go try
to raise her from this slumbering malady,
urged by persuasions and disturb'd from test,
suddenly rous'd, obsequiously addressed
he morning wings, to slit the air and soar
a higher pitch than she had done before,
and in even numbers, then with equal care,
she writ this newfound Astrologick fair,
to show the hairbrain'd world how made they be
in courting this ambiguous foolery.
A Fair in Spitalfields
where the Astrologers' knavery
is exposed to the view,
and their trinkets,
to all that will see
for their love
and
buy for their money.
Upon a time, whose date has unaware
slip'd my remembrance, the Astrologers
began to prate, as if the world should see
some sudden change, or great catastrophe.
Each libel spoke a great eclipse to come,
the scourge of Europe, and the fall of Rome,
the amazement of spectators, great affright,
terror of mortals, and a day like night.
Yea, some presum'd to say the eclipse would be
so wonderful as that obscurity
which spread earth's superficies, and befell
at the Jews slaughtering of Emanuel.
There and the like things being published
abroad in pamphlets, many minds were led
to strange conceits, thinking each day a year,
till the long-look'd for Monday should appear.
But he that makes the drooping spirits glad,
that fristrates tokens, makes diviners mad,
whose mighty wisdom rules all thiings made
the Sun shine glorious, no Cimmerian shade
made dark our dwellings; their predictions fail'd,
their tales proved fables, and the people rail'd
against these jugglers, whose prevarications
had fill'd their minds with such vain expectations.
The Astrologers perceiving it would try
in one poor day to vent their foolery,
wherefore resolve to constitute a fair
in Spitalfields, exposing each man's ware
to public view, and 'ere a full decay,
having once sold their trinkets, post away.
The time being now at hand, that hasty Sun
which lately scorch'd their credit had begun
his daily course, when lo, a cryer stands
uttering with loud voice and erected hands
- indeed his hands were lifted up on high,
because the matter much concern'd the sky -
O yes, will any buy
the knick-knacks of Astrology,
quirks and quillets, suchlike things,
rare inventions, waxen wings,
to soar above, let them repair,
and purchase what they want in Spital Fair.
No sooner had he thus divulg'd this note
through the wide cranny of his hollow throat,
but every pedler furnished his stall
with pretty whimsies to be sold, though all
demurr'd a while, and fix'd their eyes upon
their Captain General, who thus begun,
Good People,
stand not amaz'd at this unusual fair,
'tis our preservative against despair.
And which must secure us, by and by,
from the swift vengeance of a hue and cry.
Come then before the lowest of my fall,
and but these writings astrological.
Lo, here's an Introduction, 'tis as rare,
a piece as ever breath'd Celestial air.
By it are Questions of all sizes stated,
by it Nativities are calculated.
The Delphic God ne're did such tricks as these;
it is the world's great Ephemerides.
Also, I have a libel that will show
whether we shall have Monarchy or no.
And at the end whereof there is prefix'd
rats, dragons, lions, with a thousand tricks,
to please men's fancies, news of peace and strife,
besides King Charles, his character and lofe.
Here's Anus Teneborus. Buy it, ye,
'tis a rare piece compos'd by Mr. Lilly.
These and some more I have, yet none will buy
the famous gew-gaws of Astrology.
Exit.
Next to him enter'd one whose active shape
had some assimulation with an ape
on whom a doctor - pleas'd with what he spoke -
in courtesy bestow'd a velvet cloak,
which being metamorphosed to a jacket.
Under the threadbare skirts, he brought a packet,
with medicables fraught, though some deny
to couple Physick with Astrology.
This man indeed's the Vicar of St. Fool's,
yet contradicts Physicians and the Schools,
and with a handful of conceited knowledge
dare challenge all the Doctors of the College,
absurdly and presumptuously of late
usurp'd the pulpit, when intoxicate.
And now as Master of this fair place, this
His Worship utter'd with an emphasis,
what lack ye Gentlemen; come buy this spell,
'twill fetch grand Pluto from the nether Hell.
Buy this conjuring circle, which of late
preserv'd the Exorcist, tapers consecrate,
with garments wash'd; bid money, though but little,
for night comes on, and we must leave the Spital.
O, fie upon't, how these dull markets plague us!
Happy were I to speak with Simon Magus.
How well my portage would fit him to carry,
and our brave books replete his library.
There's much more in my pack which I'll not ope',
since my condition is so void of hope.
Here's my last work, Catastrophe Magnatum,
and here's Receipts sealed with probatum.
Here's a fool's cap lined with a knavish brain,
and Gypsies' riddles, but 'tis all in vain;
wherefore, I am resolv'd to smoke my nose,
then straight way to the fuddling school he goes,
where you may find sucking when he list,
the fuming pipe, or play the organist.
These two were chief, but yet another came
of great esteem, whom I forebear to name,
a man well known, whose face would fright a razor,
he much resembled stern-look'd Abbumaser.
Crowding into the midst of the throng,
cries out, Who it it that has done wrong?
Unlucky stars! that would not let us know
the near approach of our sad overthrow.
But in revenge thereof, I mean to sell
the Twelve Fair Houses where the Planets dwell.
I'll sell the whole reversion of my pack,
who buys these Twelve Signs of the Zodiack?
Besides each year's predictive Almanack,
my treasure far exceeds the Golden Fleece,
and here's good fortunes sold for pence a piece.
Nay, more! I have the Starry Globe! See here,
will this not tempt you - a Celestial Sphere,
methinks 'tis strange the spangles of the sky
are to be sold, and yet there's none will buy.
This said, as all the rest had done before,
he trussed his pack, put up, and was seen no more.
Within the fair place, though to tell you plain,
the man I think lives now in Creed Church Lane.
Those were the Grandees, but a number more
- whom I forebear to mention - brought their store,
to this great fair, and every man was glad
to sell those simple whimsies which he had.
But none would buy, wherefore they left the fair,
while people's shouts might seem to rent the air.
This the World's Great Moon Calf did
Being in the height of pride.
FINIS.
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