“‘Thou, that mak’st gaine thy end, and wisely well Call’st a book good, or bad, as it doth sell, Use mine so, too: I give thee leave. But crave For luck’s sake it thus much favours have, To lie upon thy stall till it be sought; Not offer’d, as it made suit to be bought: Nor have my title-leaf on post, or walls, Or in cleft-sticks, advanced to make calls For termers or some clerk-like serving-man, Who scarce can spell th’ hard names: whose knight scarce can; If, without these vile arts it will not sell, Send it to Bucklersbury, there ‘twill well.’” Unfortunately, also, the bitterness of the author against the bookseller was accompanied by bitterness against his fellow-craftsmen. Thus Barnaby Rich says:— “‘One of the diseases of this age is the multitude of books, that doth so overcharge the world that it is not able to digest the abundance of idle matter that is every day hatched and brought into the world, that are as divers in their forms as their authors be in their faces. It is but a thriftless and a thankless occupation, this writing of books: a man were better to sit singing in a cobbler’s shop, for his pay is certain a penny a patch, but a book-writer, if he gets sometimes a few commendations of the judicious, he shall be sure to reap a thousand reproaches of the malicious.’” (W. Roberts, _Earlier History of English Bookselling_.) This brief view of bookselling in the sixteenth century may be taken to include also the first twenty years of the seventeenth, after which certain changes appear in the trade and in the relations of author and publisher.