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Have With You to Saffron Walden
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Carneades: More postscripts and preambles; he has (as so with his Thrasonism) infected them all with his method of l’envoys, postscripts, and preambles.
Respondent: From Master Thorius I have a letter under his own hand which he sent me to be printed, utterly disclaiming the wrong which the Doctor (under his name) has thrust out against me. This is the counterpane of it.
To my very good friend Master Nashe
aster Nashe, I pray you to let my carriage towards you always, beget but this much in your opinion, that I would never have been led with so much indiscretion as to rail against any man unprovoked, or to offer [X1r] him wrong that never offended me. Truly upon the sight of five or six sheets of Doctor Harvey’s book, I wrote certain verses in his commendation, but that sonnet which in his book is subscribed with my name is not mine, and I guess at the mistaking of it. Indeed the stanzas are, though altered to your disgrace in some places. To use many words were vain, and to end and leave you unsatisfied were to write to no end and leave myself discontented. But if you consider how I was as much offended with the unjust vainglorious print as yourself, we shall both rest contented. Little did I think the book should have had so famous a title, or so many prefaces, or so many letters and preambles, amongst which some of mine blushing to look upon so contemptible a person as they were directed to, could not but be exceedingly ashamed to be presented to the eyes of a whole world. I could mislike other things, but I will leave them as trifles. Farewell.
Yours to use,
J. Thorius
[X1v] Chute that was the bawlingest of them all, and that bobbed me with nothing but Rhenish fury, Steelyard clime, oyster-whore phrase, claret spirit, and alehouse passions, with talking so much of drink,
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Have With You to Saffron Walden
Page 125
within a year and a half after died of the dropsy, as diverse printers that were at his burial certified me. Being dead I would not have revived him, but that the Doctor (whose patron he was) is alive to answer for him. Monsieur Fregusius or Monsieur Fregeville Gautius, that prating weasel-faced vermin, is one of the pipers in this consort, and he is at it with his Apology of the thrice learned and thrice eloquent Doctor Harvey, befools and besots me in every line, pleads the Doctor’s innocence and the lawfulness of his proceedings; praises his moderate style, says he is sorry he is so unjustly pushed at, and being pushed at, glad he has so acquitted himself, and that his answer is reasonable and eloquent.
I am sorry I have no more room to reason the matter with him, for if I had I did not doubt but to make him a fugitive out of England as well as he is out of his own country: and in this time of great dearth in England we have no reason but to make him a fugitive or banish him, since he is the ravenousest sloven that ever lapped porridge, and out of two noblemen’s houses had his mittimus of you may be gone, for he was such a perverse Ramistical heretic, a busy reprover of the principles of all arts, and sower of seditious paradoxes among kitchen boys.
My clew is spun, the term is at an end, wherefore here I will end and make vacation: but if you will have a word or two of Doctor Perne and Master Lyly, instead of one of Gabriel’s apostrophe sonnets or [X2r] l’envoys by Struthio Bellivecento de Compasso Callipero and the contents of it I protest and adjure, you shall.
Against Doctor Perne our Poditheck or Tolmach has in his book twilted and stitched in a whole pennyworth of paper, which his Gossipship that had the naming of the child dubs the Encomium of the Fox. In it he endorses him as the puling preacher of Pax vobis and humility (to both of which Gabriel always was an enemy, even as Doctor Perne was to his love-locks and his great ruffs and pantofles); the triangle turncoat (I would he had any coat to turn but the one he wears), and for triangles, one angle or corner he will be glad of to hide him in after this book is out, and brick-kiln and oven up his
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VERO NIHIL VERIUS