The two inseparable brothers.
OR
A true and strange description of a Gentleman (an Italian
by birth) about seventeene yeeres of age, who hath an imperfect (yet living)
Brother, growing out of his side, having a head, two armes, and one leg, all per-
fectly to be seen. They were both baptized together; the imperfect is called
John Baptist, and the other Lazarus. Admire the Creator in his Creatures.
To the tune of The wandring Jewes Chronicle.
|
TO England lately newes is come,
|
Which many parts of Christendome
|
have by experience found
|
To be the strangest and most rare,
|
That fame did to the world declare,
|
since man first walkt o'th ground.
|
I many Prodigies have seene,
|
Creatures that have preposterous beene,
|
to nature in their birth,
|
But such a thing as this my theame,
|
Makes all the rest seeme but a dreame,
|
the like was nere on earth.
|
A Gentleman well qualifide,
|
Doth beare his brother at his side,
|
inseparably knit,
|
As in this figure you may see,
|
And both together living be,
|
the world admires at it.
|
In Italy this youth was borne,
|
Whom nature freely did adorne
|
with shape and Pulchritude,
|
Like other men in each respect,
|
And not with common intelect,
|
he's inwardly indude[.]
|
This yong-man doth compleatly walke,
|
He can both read, write, sing, or talke,
|
without paine or detraction,
|
And when he speakes the other head,
|
Doth move the lips both Ruby red,
|
not speaking but in action.
|
This head and face is rightly fram'd,
|
With every part that can be nam'd,
|
eares, eyes, lips, nose, and chin,
|
His upper lip hath some beard on't,
|
Which he who beares him yet doth want,
|
this may much wonder win.
|
One arme's about his brother cast,
|
That doth embrace his body fast,
|
the other hangeth by,
|
These armes have hands with fingers all,
|
Yet as a childs they are but small,
|
pinch any part hee'l cry.
|
Onely one legge with foot and toes
|
Is to be seene, and some suppose,
|
the other is contain'd
|
Within his brothers body, yet
|
Nature hath us'd him so to it
|
[He scarcely doth feel] paind.
|
|
|
|
|
The second part, To the same tune.
|
YEt nothing doth the lesser eate,
|
He's onely nourish'd with the meate
|
wherewith the other feeds,
|
By which it seemes though outward parts
|
They have for two, yet not two hearts,
|
this admiration breeds.
|
For sicknesse and infirmities,
|
I meane Quotidian maladies,
|
which man by nature hath,
|
Sometimes one's sicke, the other wel
|
This is a story strange to tell,
|
but he himselfe thus saith.
|
Th'imperfect once the small poxe had,
|
Which made the perfect brother sad,
|
but he had never any,
|
And if you nip it by the arme,
|
Or doe it any little harme,
|
(this hath beene tride by many,)
|
It like an infant (with voyce weake)
|
Will cry out though it cannot speake,
|
as sensible of paine,
|
Which yet the other feeleth not,
|
But if the one be cold or hot,
|
that's common to both twaine.
|
Some seaventeene yeares of age they be,
|
A perfect proper youth is he
|
to which the lesse doth cleave,
|
They were baptized being young,
|
Few then did think they'd live so long,
|
as few would now beleeve.
|
But that to ratifie this truth,
|
Now in the Strand this wondrous youth
|
is present to be seene,
|
And he with his strange burden, hath
|
Bin shewne (with marvaile) as he saith
|
to our good King a[nd] Q[ueene.]
|
John Baptist is th'imperfect nam'd,
|
Who through the christian world is fam'd,
|
his Brother which him beares
|
Was called Lazarus at the Font,
|
And if we well consider on't
|
a mystery in't appeares.
|
From Italy their native place,
|
They have some certaine late yeares space,
|
gone one still with another,
|
Indeed they cannot otherwise doe,
|
He that see's one must needs see two,
|
the brother beares the brother.
|
Through Germany, through Spain & France,
|
(Devoyd of danger or mischance)
|
and other Christian Lands
|
They traveil'd have, nay rather one
|
For both, so many miles hath gone,
|
to shew th' work of Gods hands.
|
And now in England they have beene
|
About a moneth although unseene,
|
till now obtaining leave,
|
In seeing this or such strange things,
|
Let us admire the King of Kings,
|
and of his power conceave.
|
That just opinion which is due,
|
To him who is all good all true,
|
whose works we can't find out,
|
Let admiration then suffice,
|
Sith theres no man that is so wise,
|
but of's owne wit may doubt.
|
And so doe I.
|
|
|
|
|