Fennor's Defence

sigs A3–A4 verso

To all that can Iudge,
of what Degree soeuer.

IVdiciall Reader, after a Supper of Slanders, giue me leaue to bestow a Banquet of Defence; which, I hope, shall rellish with more delight in thy generous opinion. I am sorrie that my Penne is pluckt backe from better Occasions, to answere an Opposite so ignoble. But seeing my Reputation is shot at by such a poysoned Pistoll, I thought it meete to serue out the Bullet of his Infamie with my approued Honestie, before it grew ranke, or festered too farre in the Worlds Apprehension. But to the purpose: Maister Taylor, the Gentleman-like Sculler at the Hope on the Banke-side, at a | friends house of mine, acquainted me with his Proiect; which was as followeth: That hee the said Taylor had studied such seuerall Humors in Prose, as neuer were the like before: (which indeede fell out true, to his shame) wherein hee would haue me ioyne; hee to play a Scene in Prose, and I to answere him in Verse: Whereto I condiscended, on these Conditions; viz. That I might haue halfe the Commoditie thereof; Or Securitie for fiue pounds; Or else twentie shillings in hand, and the rest as the Day affoorded. Next, That I might heare his Booke read (which was fit) to know on what ground I might build my Inuention. And last, That I should see the Manner of his Challenge before it was published, and set my Answere to it with my owne hand. To all which hee graunted, and deliuered mee fiue Shillings vpon the same: Whereupon I promised faithfully, That if all this were on his part performed, I would (God willing) meete him, and with my best endeauor striue to giue the Audience content. Now, here I must entreat you, before you condemne mee, note but the Occasions of my Breach of Promise: This Water-Taylor, with his Confederates, presuming he had bound | me with his Earnest-money, printed his Challenge-Bill, and my Answere annexed thereunto, without my Hand, Knowledge, or Consent: Nay more; My Answere was by him set vp so meane and insufficient to so brauing a Challenge, that I altogether disliked thereof (as I had reason) and thereupon sent my Man with the Money fiue dayes before the Play, to certifie them, That I was otherwise employed, and would not come, in regard of the Wrong done vnto mee, in setting vp my Answere without my Consent: My Man deliuered the Message, but lost the Money at Play, emboldening himselfe vpon the Wrongs I had receiued; which I haue since payed. And the same day I receiued a Letter out of Warwickeshire from my Father, That he was not well; wishing mee and my wife to repayre vnto him with all possible speede. Now, you that are Parents of Children, or Children to Parents, Iudge, whether I ought rather to disobay my Father, or displease Iohn Taylor; purchase my Fathers hate, or lose a Scullers loue; and I hope you will say I had sufficient cause to keepe me from the Hope. But fearing my homely Truth (though it be sufficient to plead my Honestie) is not answerable to your | expectation of my Practise in Poesie; I will, as neere as I can, fit my Muse to your liking, which is my content: And euer rest honester by Land then Taylor by Water,

WILLIAM FENNOR.

Although I cannot Rogue it, as he can,
Yet will I shew my selfe an honest man.

sigs A7–A7 verso (Defence)

...

What foolish Asse, like thee, would take in hand
To play a Play, that couldst not vnderstand
What thine owne follie is, thou art so blinde;
Onely to basenesse thou art well inclin'de.
Do'st thinke I had no businesse, but to wait
On thy detested Fopperies Conceit: |
Yet I protest, hadst thou but sent the Bill
For me to answere, Ide haue shew'd my skill:
Which would haue beene so much to thy disgrace,
That thou againe durst nere haue shew'd thy face.
Canst thou imagine, that I went away,
For feare of thee, or thy contemned Play:
Know, foole, when on the Stage I purchasd worth,
I scornd to send for thee to helpe me forth.
And put the case that I should challenge thee,
Thy rayling Spirit could not answere mee:
For thou art nothing without three months studie;
Ide beat my braines out, if they were so muddie.
Fiue shillings I confesse I had of thee;
Which I protest my seruant had from me,
For to repay thee: but since he did fayle,
Thou might'st haue sent to me; not write, and rayle
On him, that holds his honestie more deare
Then all the Thames Reuenewes in a yeare.
But here thou driu'st me to a short demurre,
To know why thou shouldst call a Christian, Curre:
Oh, I haue found it; to my griefe I see.
That Curres and Christians are alike to thee.
But was thy credit by my treason slaine;
Faith I know none thou hadst to lose or staine.
I wonder much at thy simplicitie,
That thou shouldst chalenge me for sharking thee;
When of my troth I had rather giue thee gifts,
Then see thee driuen to such paltrie shifts.

sigs B2 verso–B4

...

But now to the disasters of the day,
How thou miscariedst with thy Hopefull play.
Of thy mishapps no long discourse ile tell,
How thou amongst them mad'st a beastly smell.
Thou dost commend the Players for their action,
But they were all ashamd of thy distraction,
For them, as much as thine, my praise alowe,
For none amongst them plaide the foole but thou:
Thou wouldst faine find a fault, yet knowst not where,
When in thy bosome it appeareth cleare.
Thy cheefest rayling and thy strongst euasion,
Is against me, yet thou art the occasion.
Another while thou blamst the Audience,
When thou wast cause of their impatience:
The better sort said I was wise enuffe,
To keep me out of that black whirle-wind puffe,
Which almost blue the hangings from the stage,
Was ere such folly knowne in any age?
| Thou sayst, the Maundering Begger credit got,
For that, thou knowst I know a Poet wrot:
For all the rest, that was deuisde by thee,
Was nothing but a heape of Fopperie.
I heard, thou letst the Wine run tumbling downe
Thy rotten wind-pipe, like a drunken Clowne:
But yet thy Lion drunke could not defend thee,
For 'twas thy Ape drunke made some men comend thee
For that daies censure thou canst not escape,
Which sayes, That all thy actions playde the Ape.
But thy Tobacco was such stinking stuffe,
That all the people cry'de, Enough, enough.
Thy third Act shew'd the humors of men frantick,
Wherin, most like an Asse, thou stoodst for Antick:
I saw it not, whether it were good or bad;
But wise men iudge thee either foole, or mad.
Thy last Act shewes thy skill vpon the Seas,
To be so rare, it did them all displease:
And in conclusion, such a Tempest rose,
That blew thee off, and made thy friends thy foes.
And woldst thou load my back with al this blame?
Nay; as thou got'st the coyne, so take the shame:
And let me tell thee this, to calme thy Rage.
l chaleng'd Kendall on the Fortune Stage;
And he did promise 'fore an Audience
For to oppose me; note the Accidence:
I set vp Bills, the People throng'd apace,
With full intention to disgrace, or grace; |
The House was ful, the Trumpets twice had sounded,
And though he came not, I was not confounded,
But stept vpon the Stage, and told them this;
My Aduerse would not come: not one did hisse;
But flung me Theames: I then extempore
Did blot his name from out their memorie,
And pleasd them all, in spight of one to braue me,
Witnesse the Ringing Plaudits that they gaue me.
Was not this iust the case 'twixt me and thee?
And yet thy eyes thine owne faults cannot see.
Ile touch thee neerer: Hadst thou beene away,
As I was, and my selfe supply'de the day,
I would haue rows'd my Muse incontinent,
With Mirths best quaint deuise, for their content;
And in extempore I would haue gain'd
The fauor of them all; which thee disdain'd.
But thou art hatcht from Saturnes frozen braine,
Poore drowsie groome of sleepie Morpheus traine:
If there be any sparke of Muse in thee,
It is the tayle-gut of Melpomenie,
Which doth instruct thee in thy filthie tearmes;
There's nothing else in thee my Penne affirmes.
Hadst thou done well, the credit had been thine;
But doing ill, thoud'st haue the shame be mine.
The Money pleasd thy humor passing well;
But thy discredit made thy anger swell
Aboue the verge of Patience; and thy Sayle,
Blowne full of Enuie, bursts it selfe to Rayle, |
Not publikely, but in a priuate Hole
Kindle thy Mallice at the Deuils coale:
But I with water of true Honestie
Will quench thy raging heat of Villanie.

...

sigs B5–B6 (Epitaph)

HEre lyes a Carkasse in this Graue,
Who while he liu'd, would rayle and raue,
Borrow his wit from others worth,
And in his owne name set it forth:
He row'de from Tyber to the Thames,
And there his tongue himselfe proclaimes,
The luster of all Watermen,
To row with Scull, or write with Pen.
O, had he still kept on the Water,
And neuer come vpon Theater,
He might haue liu'd full merrily,
And not haue di'de so lowsily.
O, 'twas that foolish scuruie Play
At Hope, that tooke his sence away:
Yet he to blot out all his shame,
Imputes the fault on Fennors name; |
And rayl'de at him like a mad bodie;
Liu'de a bare Foole, di'de a base Noddie.
But if you'le know what was his name,
I willingly will shew the same:
No Land-Poet, nor Sea-Saylor,
But a poore Sculler, call'd Iohn Taylor:
...
There spread thy Pamphlets, make them vnderstand
Thou art the chiefest Poet in that Land.
Thou sayst my Pate a mint of Lyes can forge,
Indeed t'has wit ynough thy lyes to scourge:
For I was neither ridde South, North, nor East,
But into Warwikeshire, direct Northwest:
Nor did I thither ride, to shunne thy Play,
But 'twas my Fathers will call'd me away;
And for th'obedience that he in me found,
He gaue me his blessing, with a hundred pound.
Then Sculler know, that was no Tinkers gift,
Nor had I need for thy poore Crowne to shift: |
But he that told thee I was gone int' Kent,
Spoke halfe as true as thou dost, lies inuent.
But see how Enuie in thy heart doth trot,
Thou grieu'st that I a poore mans Pardon got;
Is thy eye euill then, 'cause mine is good?
Or wouldst thou stop my Fountaine with thy mud?
No; spight of thee, thou Canniball to man,
I will not cease to doe what good I can:
Nor doe I looke for Siluer for my meede,
When poore men want, if I can helpe their neede:
For though thou raylst on me at the Beare garden,
Rather then see thee hangd, Ide beg thy Pardon;
Although it cost me more the suing forth
In readie money then thy Boat is worth:

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