Chapter X: Appendix: Part 2

ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 1661.

_Gratiano._—“Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,—
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks;—
There are a sort of men, whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say, ‘I am Sir Oracle,
And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!’”

(_Merchant of Venice_, Act i. sc. 1.)

We have already, in a brief Introduction, (pp. 105-110), explained our reason for adding all that was necessary to complete this work; a large portion having been anticipated in _Merry Drollery_ of the same year, 1661. In the Postscript (pp. 161-165), we endeavoured to trace the authorship of the entire collection; leaving to these following notes, and those attached to _M. Drollery, Compleat_, the search for separate poems or songs. Also, on pp. 166-175, we traced the history of “Arthur o’ Bradley,” delaying the important song of his Wedding (from an original of the date 1656), unto Part IV. of our _Appendix_.

To no other living writer are we lovers of old literature more deeply indebted than to the veteran John Payne Collier, who is now far advanced in his eighty-seventh year, and whose intellect and industry remain vigorously employed at this great age: one proof of the fact being his new edition of Shakespeare (each play in a separate quarto, issued to private subscribers), begun in January, 1875, and already the Comedies are finished, in the third volume. Among his numerous choice reprints of rare originals, his series of the more than “_Seven Early Poetical Miscellanies_” was a work of greatest value. To these, with his new “_Shakespeare_,” the interesting “_Old Man’s Diary_,” his “_Bibliographical and Critical Account of the Rarest Books in the English Language_,” his “_Annals of the Stage_,” “_The Poetical Decameron_,” his charming “_Book of Roxburghe Ballads_,” 1847, his “_Broadside Black-Letter-Ballads_,” 1868, and other labours, no less than to his warmth of heart and friendly encouragement by letters, the present Editor owes many happy hours, and for them makes grateful acknowledgment.

About the year 1870, J. P. Collier issued to private subscribers his very limited and elegant Reprint, in quarto, of “_An Antidote against Melancholy_,” 1661. This is already nearly as unattainable as the original.

J. P. Collier gave no notes to his Reprint of the “Antidote,” but, in the brief Introduction thereunto, he mentioned that:—“This poetical tract has been selected for our reprint on account of its rarity, the excellence of the greater part of its contents, the high antiquity of some of them, and from the fact that many of the ballads and humorous pieces of versification are either not met with elsewhere, or have been strangely corrupted in repetition through the press. Two or three of them are used by Shakespeare, and the word ‘incarnadine’ [see our p. 148] is only found in ‘Macbeth’ (A. ii., sc. 2), in Carew’s poems, and in this tract: here we have it as the name of a red wine; and nobody hitherto has noticed it in that sense.

“When Ritson published his ‘Robin Hood’ in 1795, he relied chiefly upon the text of the famous ballad of ‘Arthur o’ Bradley,’ as he discovered it in the miscellany before us [See our _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, pp. 312, 399; also, in present volume, p. 166, and Additional Note]; but, learned in such matters as he undoubtedly was, he was not aware of the very early period at which ‘Arthur o’ Bradley’ was so popular as to be quoted in one of our Old Moralities, which may have been in existence in the reigns of Henry VI. or Henry VII., which was acted while Henry VIII. or Edward VI. were on the throne, and which is contained in a manuscript bearing the date of 1579.

“The few known copies of ‘An Antidote against Melancholy’ are dated 1661, the year after the Restoration, when lawless licence was allowed both to the press and in social intercourse; and, if we permitted ourselves to mutilate our originals, we might not have reproduced such coarseness; but still no words will be found which, even a century afterwards, were not sometimes used in private conversation, and which did not even make their appearance at full length in print. Mere words may be said to be comparatively harmless; but when, as in the time of Charles II, they were employed as incentives to vice and laxity of manners, they become dangerous. The repetition of them in our day, in a small number of reprints, can hardly be offensive to decorum, and unquestionably cannot be injurious to public morals. We always address ourselves to the students of our language and habits of life.”

Page 113 (original, p. 1). _Not drunken, nor sober, &c._

Joseph Ritson gave this Bacchanalian chant in the second volume of his “English Songs,” p. 58, 1783. Forty-six verses, out of the seventy, had been repeated in the “Collection of Old Ballads,” 1723-25, (which Ambrose Philips and David Mallet may have edited,) “The Ex-Ale-tation of Ale” is in vol. iii. p. 166. Part, if not all, must have been in existence fully ten years before it appeared in the “Antidote,” as we find “O Ale _ab alendo_, thou Liquor of life!” with music by John Hilton, in his “Catch that Catch Can,” p. 5, 1652. It is also in _Wit’s Merriment; or, Lusty Drollery_, 1656, p. 118; eight verses only. These are: 1. Not drunken; 2. But yet to commend it; 3. But yet, by your leave; 4. It makes a man merry; 5. The old wife whose teeth; 6. The Ploughman, the Lab’rer; 7. The man that hath a black blous to his wife; 8. With that my friend said, &c. Still earlier, the poem had appeared, imperfectly, in a four-paged quarto pamphlet, dated 1642 (along with “The Battle fought between the Norfolk Cock and the Wisbeach Cock,” see _M. D. C._, p. 242) as by THOMAS RANDALL, i.e. RANDOLPH. Accordingly, it has been included (34 verses only) in the 1875 edition of his Works, p. 662. We personally attach no weight to the pamphlet’s ascription of it to Randolph, (who died in March, 1634-5). It is far more likely to have been the work of SAMUEL ROWLANDS, in whose _Crew of Kind London Gossips_, 1663, we meet it, p. 129-141, and whose style it more closely resembles. Some poems duly assigned to Randolph are in the same volume, but the “Exaltation of Ale” is _not_ thus distinguished. There are seventy-two verses given, and the motto is _Tempus edax rerum, &c._ We have not been able to consult an earlier edition of S. Rowland’s “_Crew_,” &c., about 1650.

So long afterwards as 1788, we find an abbreviated copy of the song, six verses, in Lackington’s “British Songster,” p. 202, entitled “A Tankard of Ale.” The first verse runs thus:—

“_Not drunk, nor yet sober, but brother to both,_
_I met with a man upon Aylesbury Vale,_
_I saw in his face that he was in good case_
_To go and take part of a tankard of ale._”

Omitting all sequence of narrative, the other verses are adapted from the _Antidote’s_ 21st, 19th, 10th, 26th, and 50th; concerning the hedger, beggar, widow, clerk, and amicable conclusion over a tankard of ale. In a _Convivial Songster_, of 1807, by Tegg, London, these six are given with addition of another as fifth:—

_The old parish Vicar, when he’s in his liquor,_
_Will merrily at his parishioners rail,_
_“Come, pay all your tithes, or I’ll kiss all your wives,”_
_When once he shakes hands with a tankard of ale._

It had appeared in a Chap-book (circa 1794, according to Wm. Logan; see his amusing “Pedlar’s Pack,” pp. 224-6), with other five verses inserted before the Finale. We give them to complete the tale:—

_There’s the blacksmith by trade, a jolly brisk blade,_
_Cries, “Fill up the bumper, dear host, from the pail;”_
_So cheerful he’ll sing, and make the house ring,_
_When once he shakes hands with a tankard of ale._
_Laru la re, laru, &c. So cheerful, &c._

_There’s the tinker, ye ken, cries “old kettles to mend,”_
_With his budget and hammer to drive in the nail;_
_Will spend a whole crown, at one sitting down,_
_When once he shakes hands with a tankard of ale._
_Laru, &c._

_There’s the mason, brave ~John~, the carver of stone,_
_The Master’s grand secret he’ll never reveal;_
_Yet how merry is he with his lass on his knee,_
_When once he shakes hands with a tankard of ale._
_Laru, &c._

_You maids who feel shame, pray me do not blame,_
_Though your private ongoings in public I tell;_
_Young ~Bridget~ and ~Nell~ to kiss will not fail_
_When once they shake hands with a tankard of ale._
_Laru, &c._

_There’s some jolly wives, love drink as their lives,_
_Dear neighbours but mind the sad thread of my tale;_
_Their husbands they’ll scorn, as sure’s they were born,_
_If once they shake hands with a tankard of ale._
_Laru, &c._

_From wrangling or jangling, and ev’ry such strife,_
_Or anything else that may happen to fall;_
_From words come to blows, and sharp bloody nose,_
_But friends again over a tankard of ale._
_Laru, &c._

Notice the characteristic mention of William Elderton, the Ballad-writer (who died before 1592), in the thirty-third verse (our p. 119):—

_For ballads Elderton never had peer;_
_How went his wit in them, with how merry a gale,_
_And with all the sails up, had he been at the cup,_
_And washed his beard with a pot of good ale._

William Elderton’s “New Yorkshire Song, intituled _Yorke, Yorke, for my Monie_,” (entered at Stationers’ Hall, 16 November, 1582, and afterwards “Imprinted at London by Richard Iones; dwelling neere Holbourne Bridge: 1584),” has the place of honour in the Roxburghe Collection, being the first ballad in the first volume. It consequently takes the lead in the valuable “Roxburghe Bds.” of the Ballad Society, 1869, so ably edited by William Chappell, Esq., F.S.A. It also formed the commencement of Ritson’s _Yorkshire Garland_: York, 1788. It is believed that Elderton wrote the “excellent Ballad intituled The Constancy of Susanna” (Roxb. Coll., i. 60; Bagford, ii. 6; Pepys, i. 33, 496). A list of others was first given by Ritson; since, by W. C. Hazlitt, in his _Handbook_, p. 177. Elderton’s “Lenton Stuff ys come to the town” was reprinted by J. O. Halliwell, for the Shakespeare Society, in 1846 (p. 105). He gives Drayton’s allusion to Elderton in Notes to Mr. Hy. Huth’s “79 Black-Letter Ballads,” 1870, 274 (the “Praise of my Ladie Marquess,” by W. E., being on pp. 14-16). Elderton had been an actor in 1552; his earliest dated ballad is of 1559, and he had ceased to live by 1592. Camden gives an epitaph, which corroborates our text, in regard to the “thirst complaint” of the balladist:—

_Hic situs est sitiens, atque ebrius Eldertonus—_
_Quid dico—Hic situs est? his potius sitis est._

Thus freely rendered by Oldys:—

_Dead drunk here Elderton doth lie;_
_Dead as he is, he still is dry;_
_So of him it may well be said,_
_Here he, but not his thirst, is laid._

A MS., time of James I., possessed by J. P. Collier, mentions, in further confirmation:

_~Will Elderton’s~ red nose is famous everywhere,_
_And many a ballet shows it cost him very dear;_
_In ale, and toast, and spice, he spent good store of coin,_
_You need not ask him twice to take a cup of wine._
_But though his nose was red, his hand was very white,_
_In work it never sped, nor took in it delight;_
_No marvel therefore ’tis, that white should be his hand,_
_That ballets writ a score, as you well understand._

(See Wm. Chappell’s Popular Music of the Olden Time, pp. 107, 815; and J. P. Collier’s Extracts from Reg. Stat. Comp., _passim_, Indices, art. Elderton; and his Bk. of Roxb. Bds., p. 139.)

Page 125 (orig. 14). _With an old Song, made by, &c._

The fashion of disparaging the present, by praising the customs and people of days that have passed away, is almost as old as the Deluge, if not older. Homer speaks of the degeneracy in his time, and aged Israel had long earlier lamented the few and evil days to which his own life extended, in comparison with those patriarchs who had gone before him. Even as we know not the full value of the Mistress or the friend whose affection had been given unto us, until separated from them, for ever, by estrangement or the grave, so does it seem to be with many customs and things. Robert Browning touchingly declares:—

_And she is gone; sweet human love is gone!_
_’Tis only when they spring to heaven that angels_
_Reveal themselves to you; they sit all day_
_Beside you, and lie down at night by you_
_Who care not for their presence, muse or sleep,_
_And all at once they leave you, and you know them!_

Modified in succeeding reigns, the ballad of “The Queen [Elizabeth]’s Old Courtier, and A New Courtier of the King [James]” has already known two hundred and fifty years’ popularity. The earliest printed copy was probably issued by T. Symcocke, by or after 1626. We find it in several books about the time of the Restoration, when parodies became frequent. It is in _Le Prince d’Amour_, 1660, p. 161; _Wit and Drollery_, 1682 (not in 1656, 1661 edits.), p. 278, “With an old Song,” _&c._; _Wit and Mirth_, 1684, p. 43; _Dryden’s Misc. Poems_ (ed. 1716, iv. 108); with the Music, in _Pills_, iii. 271; in _Philomel_, 130, 1744; Percy’s _Reliques_, ii. Bk. 3, No. 8, 1767; Ritson’s _English Sgs._, ii. 140, and Chappell’s _Pop. Music_, p. 300, to which refer for a good introduction, with extract from Pepys Diary of 16th June, 1668. Accompanying a Parody by T. Howard, Gent. (beginning similarly, “An Old Song made of an old aged pate”), it meets us in the Roxburghe Coll., iii. 72, printed for F. Coles (1646-74).

Among other parodies may be mentioned one entitled “An Old Souldier of the Queen’s” (in _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, 31, and in _Wit and Drollery_, 248, 1661); another, “The New Souldier” (_Wit and Drollery_, 282, 1682), beginning:—

_With a new Beard but lately trimmed,_
_With a new love-lock neatly kemm’d,_
_With a new favour snatch’d or nimm’d,_
_With a new doublet, French-like trimm’d;_
_And a new gate, as if he swimm’d;_
Like a new Souldier of the King’s,
And the King’s new Souldier.

_With a new feather in his Cap;_
_With new white bootes, without a strap_; &c.

In the same edition of _Wit and Drollery_, p. 165, is yet another parody, headed “_Old Souldiers_,” which runs thus (see _Westminster-Drollery_, ii. 24, 1672,):—

_Of Old Souldiers the song you would hear,_
_And we old fiddlers have forgot who they were._

John Cleveland had a parody on the Queen’s Courtier, about 1648, entitled The Puritan, beginning “With face and fashion to be known, For one of sure election.” Another, called The Tub-Preacher, is doubtfully attributed to Samuel Butler, and begins similarly, “With face and fashion to be known: With eyes all white, and many a groan” (in his _Posthumous Works_, p. 44, 3rd edit., 1730). The political parody, entitled “Saint George and the Dragon, _anglicé Mercurius Poeticus_,” to the same tune of “The Old Courtier,” is in the Kings Pamphlets, XVI., and has been reprinted by T. Wright for the Percy Soc., iii. 205. It bears Thomason’s date, 28 Feb., 1659-[60], and is on the overthrow of the Rump, by General Monk. It begins thus:—

_News! news! here’s the occurrences and a new Mercurius,_
_A dialogue between Haselrigg the baffled and Arthur the furious;_
_With Ireton’s readings upon legitimate and spurious,_
_Proving that a Saint may be the Son of a Wh——, for the satisfaction
of the curious._
_From a Rump insatiate as the Sea,_
Libera nos, Domine, _&c._

Old songs have rarely, if ever, been modernized so successfully as “The Queen’s Old Courtier,” of which “The Fine Old English Gentleman” is no unworthy representative. Popular though it was, thirty or forty years ago, it is not easily met with now; thus we may be excused for adding it here:—

_THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN._

_I’ll sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate,_
_Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate,_
_And who kept up his old mansion, at a bountiful old rate;_
_With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at his gate._
_Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time._

_His hall so old was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows,_
_And swords, and good old bucklers, that had stood against old foes;_
_’Twas there “his worship” held his state in doublet and trunk hose,_
_And quaff’d his cup of good old Sack, to warm, his good old nose:_
_Like a fine old English gentleman, &c._

_When Winter’s cold brought frost and snow, he open’d house to all;_
_And though threescore and ten his years, he featly led the ball;_
_Nor was the houseless wanderer e’er driven from his hall,_
_For, while he feasted all the great, he ne’er forgot the small:_
_Like a fine old English gentleman, &c._

_But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll swiftly by;_
_And autum’s falling leaves proclaimed, the old man—he must die!_
_He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life’s latest sigh;_
_While a heavy stillness reign’d around, and tears dimm’d every eye._
_For this good old English gentleman, &c._

_Now surely this is better far than all the new parade_
_Of theatres and fancy balls, “At Home,” and masquerade;_
_And much more economical, when all the bills are paid:_
_Then leave your new vagaries off, and take up the old trade_
_Of a fine old English gentleman, &c._

A series of eight Essays, each illustrated with a design by R. W. Buss, was devoted to “The Old and Young Courtier” in the _Penny Magazine_ of the Society for Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, in 1842.

Charles Matthews used to sing (was it in “Patter _versus_ Clatter”?) an amusing version of “The Fine Young English Gentleman,” of whom it was reported that,

_He kept up his vagaries at a most astounding rate,_
_And likewise his old Landlady,—by staying out so late,_
_Like a fine young English gentleman, one of the present time, &c._

T. R. Planché wrote a parody to the same tune, in his “Golden Fleece,” on the “Fine Young Grecian Gentleman,” Iason, as described by his deserted wife Medea: it begins, “I’ll tell you a sad tale of the life I’ve been led of late.” In Dinny Blake’s “_Sprig of Shillelah_,” p. 3, is found “The Rale Ould Irish Gintleman,” (5 verses) beginning, “I’ll sing you a dacent song, that was made by a Paddy’s pate,” and ending thus:—

_Each Irish boy then took a pride to prove himself a man,_
_To serve a friend, and beat a foe it always was the plan_
_Of a rale ould Irish Gintleman, the boy of the olden time._

(Or, as Wm. Hy. Murray, of Edinburgh, used to say, in his unequalled “Old Country Squire,” “A smile for a friend, a frown for a foe, and a full front for every one!”)

At the beginning of the Crimean War appeared another parody, ridiculing the Emperor Nicholas, as “The Fine Old Russian Gentleman” (it is in Berger’s _Red, White, and Blue_, 467); and clever Robert B. Brough, in one of his more bitter moods against “The Governing Classes,” misrepresented the “Fine Old English Gentleman” (_Ibid._, p. 733), as splenetically as Charles Dickens did in _Barnaby Rudge_, chapter 47.

Page 20 (original). Pan _leave piping, &c._

Given already, in our Appendix to the _Westminster Drollery_, p. liv., with note of tune and locality. See Additional Note in Part 3 of present Appendix.

Page 129 (orig. 26). _Why should we boast of ~Arthur~, &c._

There are so many differences in the version printed in the _Antidote agt. Melancholy_ from that already given in _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, p. 309, (cp. Note, p. 399), that we give the former uncurtailed.

Along with the music in _Pills to p. Mel._, iii. 116, 1719, are the extra verses (also in _Wit and Mirth_, 1684, p. 29?) agreeing with the _Antidote_; as does the version in _Old Bds._, i. 24, 1723.

Another old ballad, in the last-named collection, p. 153, is upon “King Edward and Jane Shore; in Imitation, and to the Tune of, St. _George_ and the _Dragon_.” It begins (in better version):—

_Why should we boast of ~Lais~ and her knights,_
_Knowing such Champions entrapt by Whorish Lights?_
_Or why should we speak of ~Thais~ curled Locks,_
_Or ~Rhodope~, &c._

Roxb. Coll., iii. 258, printed in 1671. Also in _Pills_, with music, iv. 272. The authorship of it is ascribed to SAMUEL BUTLER, in the volume assuming to be his “Posthumous Works” (p. iii., 3rd edition, 1730); but this ascription is of no weight in general.

In Edm. Gayton’s _Festivous Notes upon Don Quixot_, 1654, p. 231, we read:—“’Twas very proper for these Saints to alight at the sign of St. _George_, who slew the Dragon which was to prey upon the Virgin: The truth of which story hath been abus’d by his own country-men, who almost deny all the particulars of it, as I have read in a scurrilous Epigram, very much impairing the credit and Legend of St. _George_; As followeth,

_They say there is no ~Dragon~,_
_Nor no Saint ~George~ ’tis said._
_Saint ~George~ and ~Dragon~ lost,_
_Pray Heaven there be a Maid!_

But it was smartly return’d to, in this manner,

_Saint ~George~ indeed is dead,_
_And the fell ~Dragon~ slaine;_
_The ~Maid~ liv’d so and dyed,—_
_She’ll ne’r do so againe._”

Somewhat different is the earlier version, in _Wit’s Recreations_, 1640-45. (Reprint, p. 194, which see, “To save a maid,” &c.) The Answer to it is probably Gayton’s own.

Page 133 (orig. 29). _Come hither, thou merriest, &c._

Issued as a popular broadsheet, printed at London for Thomas Lambert, probably during the lifetime of Charles I., we find this lively ditty of “Blew Cap for Me!” in the Roxburghe Coll., i. 20, and in the Bd. Soc. Reprint, vol. i. pp. 74-9. Mr. Chappell mentions that the tune thus named “is included in the various editions of _The Dancing Master_ from 1650 to 1690; and says, the reference to ‘when our good king was in Falkland town,’ [in the _Antidote_ it reads “our good _knight_,” line 13] may supply an approximate date to the composition.” We believe that it must certainly have been before the Scots sold their king for the base bribe of money from the Parliamentarians, in 1648, when “Blew caps” became hateful to all true Cavaliers. The visit to Falkland was in 1633, so the date is narrowed in compass. From the Black-letter ballad we gain a few corrections: _drowne_, for dare, in 4th line; long _lock’d_, 26th line; for _further_ exercises, 28th; _Mistris_ (so we should read _Maitresse_, not _a metrel_), 29th; _Pe gar_ me do love you (not “Dear”), 30th; _she_ replide. The First Part ends with the Irishman. The Second Part begins with two verses not in the _Antidote_:—

_A Dainty spruce Spanyard, with haire black as jett,_
_long cloak with round cape, a long Rapier and Ponyard;_
_Hee told her if that she could Scotland forget,_
_hee’d shew her the Vines as they grow in the Vineyard._
_“If thou wilt abandon_
_this Country so cold,_
_I’ll show thee faire Spaine,_
_and much Indian gold.”_
_But stil she replide, “Sir,_
_I pray let me be;_
Gif ever I have a man,
Blew-cap for me.”

_A haughty high German of Hamborough towne,_
_a proper tall gallant, with mighty mustachoes;_
_He weepes if the Lasse vpon him doe but frowne,_
_yet he’s a great Fencer that comes to ore-match vs._
_But yet all his fine fencing_
_Could not get the Lasse;_
_She deny’d him so oft,_
_that he wearyed was;_
_For still she replide, “Sir,_
_I pray let me be;_
Gif ever I have a man,
Blew-cap for me.”

In the Netherland Mariner’s Speech we find for the fifth line of verse, “_Isk_ will make thee,” _said_ he, “sole Lady,” &c. Another verse follows it, before the conclusion:—

_These sundry Sutors, of seuerall Lands,_ [4]
_did daily solicite this Lasse for her fauour;_
_And euery one of them alike vnderstands_
_that to win the prize they in vaine did endeauour:_
_For she had resolued_
_(as I before said)_
_To haue bonny Blew-cap,_
_or else bee a maid._
_Vnto all her suppliants_
_still replyde she,_
“Gif ever I have a man,
Blew-cap for me.”

_At last came a Scottish-man (with a blew-cap),_
_and he was the party for whom she had tarry’d;_
_To get this blithe bonny Lasse ’twas his gude hap,—_
_they gang’d to the Kirk, & were presently marry’d._
_I ken not weele whether_
_it were Lord or Leard;_ [Laird]
_They caude him some sike_
_a like name as I heard;_
_To chuse him from au_
_She did gladly agree,—_
_And still she cride_, “Blew-cap,
th’art welcome to mee.”

The song is also reprinted for the Percy Society, (Fairholt’s _Costume_), xxvii. 130, as well as in Evans’ _O. Bds._, iii. 245. Compare John Cleavland’s “Square Cap,”—“Come hither, _Apollo’s_ bouncing girl.”

Page 135 (orig. 30). _The Wit hath long beholden been._

In Harleian MS. No. 6931, where it is signed as by DR. W. STRODE.

The tune of this is “The Shaking of the Sheets,” according to a broadside printed for John Trundle (1605-24, before 1628, as by that date we believe his widow’s name would have been substituted). We find it reprinted by J. P. Collier in his _Book of Roxburghe Ballads_, p. 172, 1847, as “The Song of the Caps.” In an introductory note, we gather that “This spirited and humorous song seems to have been founded, in some of its points, upon the ‘Pleasant Dialogue or Disputation between the Cap and the Head,’ which prose satire went through two editions, in 1564 and 1565: (see the Bridgewater Catalogue, p. 46.) It is, however, more modern, and certainly cannot be placed earlier than the end of the reign of Elizabeth. It may be suspected that it underwent some changes, to adapt it to the times, when it was afterwards reprinted; and we finally meet with it, but in a rather corrupted state, in a work published in 1656, called ‘Sportive Wit: the Muses Merriment, a new Spring of Lusty Drollery,’ &c.” [p. 23.] It appears, with the music, in _Pills_, iv. 157; in Percy Society’s “Costume,” 1849, 115, with woodcuts of several of the caps mentioned.

In _Sportive Wit_, 1656, p. 23, is a second verse (coming before “The Monmouth Cap,” &c.):—

2.—_The Cap doth stand, each man can show,_
_Above a Crown, but Kings below:_
_The Cap is nearer heav’n than we;_
_A greater sign of Majestie:_
_When off the Cap we chance to take,_
_Both head and feet obeysance make;_
For any Cap, &c.

In our 3rd verse, it reads:—ever _brought_, The _quilted_, Furr’d; _crewel_; 4th verse, line 6, of (_some say_) a horn. 5th verse, crooked _cause aright; Which, being round and endless, knows_ || _To make as endless any cause_ [A better version]. 6th, _findes_ a mouth; 7th, The _Motley Man_ a Cap; [for lines 3, 4, compare Shakespeare, as to it taking a wise man to play the fool,] like _the Gyant’s_ Crown. 8th, Sick-_mans_; When _hats in Church_ drop off apace, _This_ Cap _ne’er leaves the_ head _uncas’d_, Though he be _ill_; [two next verses are expanded into three, in _Sp. Wit_.] 11th, none but _Graduats_ [N.B.]; _none_ covered are; _But those that_ to; _go_ bare. _This_ Cap, _of all the Caps that be_, Is _now_; _high_ degree.

Page 139 (orig. 37). _Once I a curious eye did fix._

This is in THOMAS WEAVER’S _Songs and Poems of Love and Drollery_, p. 16, 1654. Elsewhere attributed to JOHN CLEVELAND (who died in 1658), and printed among his Poems “_J. Cleavland Revived_” (p. 106, 3rd edit. 1662), as “The Schismatick,” with a trashy fifth verse (not found elsewhere):—

_I heard of one did touch,_
_He did tell as much,_
_Of one that would not crouch_
_At ~Communion~;_
_Who thrusting up his hand_
_Never made a stand_
_Till he came where her f—— had union;_
_She without all terrour,_
_Thought it no errour,_
_But did laugh till the tears down did trickle,_
_Ha, ha, ha, ~Rotundus~, ~Rotundus~, ’tis you that my spleen
doth tickle._

It is likewise in the _Rump_ collection, i. 223, 1662; _Loyal Sgs._, i. 131, 1731.

Page 139 (orig. 47). _I’s not come here to tauk of ~Prut~._

By BEN JONSON. This is the song of the Welshmen, Evan, Howell, and Rheese, alternately, in Praise of Wales, sung in an Anti-Masque “For the Honour of Wales,” performed before King James I. on Shrove Tuesday, 1618-19. The final verse is omitted from the _Antidote against Melancholy_. It is this (sung by Rheese):—

_Au, but what say yow should it shance too,_
_That we should leap it in a dance too,_
_And make it you as great a pleasure,_
_If but your eyes be now at leisure;_
_As in your ears s’all leave a laughter,_
_To last upon you six days after?_
_Ha! well-a-go to, let us try to do,_
_As your old ~Britton~, things to be writ on._

CHORUS.—_Come, put on other looks now,_
_And lay away your hooks now;_
_And though yet yow ha’ no pump, sirs,_
_Let ’em hear that yow can jump, sirs,_
_Still, still, we’ll toudge your ears,_
_With the praise of her thirteen s’eeres._

(See Col. F. Cunningham’s “Mermaid” Ben Jonson, iii. 130-2, for Gifford’s Notes.) With a quaint old woodcut of a strutting Welshman, in cap and feather, the song reappears in “_Recreations for Ingenious Head-pieces_,” 1645 (_Wits Recreations_, Reprint, p. 387).

Page 143. _Old Poets Hipocrin admire._

This is attributed to THOMAS RANDALL, or RANDOLPH (died 1634-5), in _Wit and Mirth_, 1684. p. 101: But to N. N., along with music by Hy. Lawes, in his _Ayres_, Book ii. p. 29, 1655. It is also in _Parnassus Biceps_, 1656, p. 158, “_All_ Poets,” &c., and in _Sportive Wit_, p. 60.

Page 144. _Hang the Presbyter’s Gill._

With music in _Pills_, vi. 182; title, “The Presbyter’s Gill:” where we find three other verses, as 4th, 5th, and 7th:—

4.

_The stout-brested ~Lombard~, His brains ne’er incumbred,_
_With drinking of Gallons three;_
_~Trycongius~ was named, And by ~Cæsar~ famed,_
_Who dubb’d him Knight Cap-a-pee._

5.

_If then Honour be in’t, Why a Pox should we stint_
_Ourselves of the fulness it bears?_
_H’ has less Wit than an Ape, In the blood of a Grape,_
_Will not plunge himself o’er Head and Ears._

7.

_See the bold Foe appears, May he fall that him Fears,_
_Keep you but close order, and then_
_We will give him the Rout, Be he never so stout[,]_
_And prepare for his Rallying agen._

8 (Final).

_Let’s drain the whole Cellar, &c._

The accumulative progression, humourously exaggerated, is to be seen employed in other Drinking Songs; notably in “Here’s a Health to the Barley-Mow, my brave boys!” (still heard at rural festivals in East Yorkshire, and printed in J. H. Dixon’s _Bds. & Sgs. of the Peasantry_, Bell’s annotated edit., p. 159) and “Bacchus Overcome,” beginning “My Friend and I, we drank,” &c. (in _Coll. Old Bds._, iii. 145, 1725.)

Page 145. _’Tis Wine that inspires._

With music by Henry Lawes, in his Select Ayres, i. 32, 1653, entitled “The Excellency of Wine:” the author was “LORD BROUGHALL” [query, Broghill?].

(Page, in original, 55.) _Let the bells ring._

See Introduction to our _Westminster-Drollery_ Reprint, pp. xxxvii-viii. Although not printed in the first edition of his “Spanish Curate,” it is so entirely in the spirit of JOHN FLETCHER that we need not hesitate to assign it to him: and he died in 1625.

Page 146. _Bring out the [c]old Chyne._

With music, by Dr. John Wilson, in John Playford’s _Select Ayres_, 1659, p. 86, entitled Glee to the Cook. A poem attributed to Thomas Flatman, 1655, begins, “A Chine of Beef, God save us all!”

Page 147. _In Love? away! you do me wrong._

Given, with music by Henry Lawes, in his _Select Ayres_, Book iii. p. 5, 1669. The author of the words was Dr. HENRY HUGHES. We do not find the burden, “Come, fill’s a Cup,” along with the music.

(Page 65, orig.) _He that a Tinker, a Tinker &c._

See _Choyce Drollery_, 52, and note on p. 289.

Page 149, line 8th, _Now that the Spring, &c._

This was written by WILLM. BROWNE, author of “Britannia’s Pastorals,” and therefore dates before 1645. See Additional Note, late in Part IV., on p. 296 of _M. D. C._

Page 149. _You Merry Poets, old boys._

Given, with music by John Hilton, in his _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 7. Also in Walsh’s _Catch-Club_, ii. 13, No. 24.

Page 150. _Come, come away, to the Tavern, I say._

By Sir JOHN SUCKLING, in his unfinished tragedy “The Sad One,” Act iv. sc. 4, where it is sung by Signior Multecarni the Poet, and two of the actors; but without the final couplet, which recalls to memory Francis’s rejoinder in Henry IV., pt. i. Suckling was accustomed to introduce Shakesperian phrases into his plays, and we believe these two lines are genuine. We find the Catch, with music by John Hilton in that composer’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 15. (Also in Playford’s _Musical Companion_, 1673, p. 24.)

Captain William Hicks has a dialogue of Two Parliamentary Troopers, beginning with the same first line, in _Oxford Drollery_, i. 21, 1671. Written before 1659, thus:

_Come, come away, to the Tavern, I say,_
_Whilst we have time and leisure for to think;_
_I find our State lyes tottering of late,_
_And that e’re long we sha’n’t have time to drink._
Then here’s a health to thee, to thee and me,
To me and thee, to thee and me, _&c._

Page 151. _There was an Old Man at ~Walton~ Cross._

This should read “_Waltham_ Cross.” By RICHARD BROME, in his comedy of “The Jovial Crew,” Act ii., 1641, wherein it is sung by Hearty, as “t’other old song for that” [the uselessness of sighing for a lass]; to the tune of “Taunton Dean,” (see Dodsley’s _Old Plays_, 1st edit., 1744, vi. 333). With music by John Hilton, it is given in J. H.’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 31. It is also in Walsh’s _Catch Club_ (about 1705) ii. 17, No. 43.

Page 151. _Come, let us cast dice, who shall drink._

In J. Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 55, with music by William Lawes; and in John Playford’s _Musical Companion_, 1673, p. 24.

Page 151. _Never let a man take heavily, &c._

With music by William Lawes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 38.

Page 152. _Let’s cast away care, and merrily sing._

With music by William Lawes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 37. Wm. Chappell gives the words of four lines, omitting fifth and sixth, to accompany the music of Ben Jonson’s “Cock Lorrell,” in _Pop. Mus. of O. T._, 161 (where date of the _Antidote_ is accidentally misprinted 1651, for 1661).

Page 152. _Hang sorrow, and cast away care._

With music by William Lawes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 39. The words alone in _Windsor Drollery_, 140, 1672. Richard Climsall, or Climsell, has a long ballad, entitled “Joy and Sorrow Mixt Together,” which begins,

_Hang Sorrow! let’s cast away care,_
_for now I do mean to be merry;_
_Wee’l drink some good Ale and strong Beere,_
_With Sugar, and Clarret, and Sherry._
_Now Ile have a wife of mine own:_
_I shall have no need for to borrow;_
_I would have it for to be known_
_that I shall be married to morrow._
Here’s a health to my Bride that shall be!
come, pledge it, you coon merry blades;
The day I much long for to see,
we will be as merry as the Maides.

Poor fellow! he soon changes his tune, after marriage, although singing to the music of “Such a Rogue would be hang’d,”—better known as “Old Sir Simon the King.” Printed by John Wright the younger (1641-83), it survives in the Roxburghe Collection, i. 172, and is reprinted for the Bd. Soc., i. 515. As may be seen, it is totally different from the Catch in Hilton’s volume and the _Antidote_; which is also in _Oxford Drollery_, Pt. 3, p. 136, there entitled “A Cup of Sack:—“_Hang Sorrow, cast_,” &c.

It there has two more verses:—

2.

_Come Ladd, here’s a health to thy Love,_ [p. 136.]
_Do thou drink another to mine,_
_I’le never be strange, for if thou wilt change_
_I’le barter my Lady for thine:_
_She is as free, and willing to be_
_To any thing I command,_
_I vow like a friend, I never intend_
_To put a bad thing in thy hand:_
_Then be as frollick and free_ [p. 137.]
_With her as thou woul’st with thine own,_
_But let her not lack good Claret and Sack,_
_To make her come off and come on._

3.

_Come drink, we cannot want Chink,_
_Observe how my pockets do gingle,_
_And he that takes his Liquor all off_
_I here do adopt him mine ningle:_
_Then range a health to our King,_
_I mean the King of ~October~,_
_For ~Bacchus~ is he that will not agree_
_A man should go to bed sober:_
_’Tis wine, both neat and fine,_
_That is the faces adorning,_
_No Doctor can cure, with his Physick more sure,_
_Than a Cup of small Beer in the morning._

This shows how a great man’s gifts are undervalued. Christopher Sly was truly wise (yet accounted a Sot and even a Rogue, though “the Slys are no rogues: look in the chronicles! We came in with Richard Conqueror!”) when, with all the wealth and luxury of the Duke at command, he demanded nothing so much as “a pot o’ the smallest ale.” He had good need of it.

Page 152. _My Lady and her Maid, upon a merry pin._

This meets us earlier, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1651, p. 64, with music by William Ellis. The missing first verse reappears (if, indeed, not a later addition) in _Oxford Drollery_, 1674, Part iii. p. 163, as “made at Oxford many years since”:—

_My Lady and her Maid_
_Were late at Course-a-Park:_
_The wind blew out the candle, and_
_She went to bed in the dark,_

_My Lady, &c._ [as in _Antidote ag. Mel._]

It was popular before December, 1659; allusions to it are in the _Rump_, 1662, i. 369; ii. 62, 97.

Page 153. _An old house end._

Also in _Windsor Drollery_, 1672, p. 30.

Same p. 153. _Wilt thou lend me thy Mare._

With music by Edmund Nelham, in John Hilton’s _Catch that Catch can_, 1652, p. 78. The Answer, here beginning “Your Mare is lame,” &c., we have not met elsewhere. The Catch itself has always been a favourite. In a world wherein, amid much neighbourly kindness, there is more than a little of imposition, the sly cynicism of the verse could not fail to please. Folks do not object to doing a good turn, but dislike being deemed silly enough to have been taken at a disadvantage. So we laugh at the Catch, say something wise, and straightway let ourselves do good-natured things again with a clear conscience.

Page 154. _Good ~Symon~, how comes it, &c._

With music by William Howes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch can_, 1652, p. 84. Also in Walsh’s _Catch-Club_, ii. 77. We are told that the _Symon_ here addressed, regarding his Bardolphian nose, was worthy Symon Wadloe,—“Old _Sym_, the King of Skinkers,” or Drawers. Possibly some jocular allusion to the same reveller animates the choice ditty (for which see the _Percy Folio MS._, iv. 124, and _Pills_, iii. 143),

_Old Sir ~Simon~ the King!_
_With his ale-dropt hose,_
_And his malmesy nose,_
_Sing hey ding, ding a ding ding._

We scarcely believe the ascription to be correct, and that “Old Symon the King” originally referred to Simon Wadloe, who kept the “Devil and St. Dunstan” Tavern, whereat Ben Jonson and his comrades held their meetings as The Apollo Club; for which the _Leges Conviviales_ were written. Seeing that Wadloe died in 1626, or ’27, and there being a clear trace of “Old Simon the King” in 1575, in Laneham’s _Kenilworth Letter_ (Reprinted for Ballad Society, 1871, p. cxxxi.), the song appears of too early a date to suit the theory. _Tant pis pour les faits._ But consult Chappell’s _Pop. Mus._, 263-5, 776-7.

Same p. 154. _Wilt thou be fatt? &c._

In 1865 (see his _Bibliog. Account_, i. 25), J. P. Collier drew attention to the mention of Falstaff’s name in this Catch; also to the other _Shakesperiana_, viz., the complete song of “Jog on, jog on the footpath way,” (p. 156), and the burden of “Three merry boys,” to “The Wise-men were but Seven” (_M. D. C._, p. 232), which is connected with Sir Toby Belch’s joviality in _Twelfth Night_, Act ii. 3.

Page 155. _Of all the birds that ever I see._

With the music, in Chappell’s _Pop. Mus. O. T._, p. 75. This favourite of our own day dates back so early, at least, as 1609, when it appeared in (Thomas Ravenscroft’s?) _Deuteromelia; or, the Second Part of Musick’s Melodie, &c._, p. 7. We therein find (what has dropped out, to the damage of our _Antidote_ version), as the final couplet:—

_Sinamont and ginger, nutmegs and cloves,_
_And that gave me my jolly red nose._

Of course, it was the spice deserved blame, not the liquor (as Sam Weller observed, on a similar occasion, “Somehow it always _is_ the salmon”). Those who remember (at the Johnson in Fleet Street, or among the Harmonist Society of Edinburgh) the suggestive lingering over the first syllable of the word “gin-ger,” when “this song is well sung,” cannot willingly relinquish the half-line. It is a genuine relic, for it also occurs in Beaumont and Fletcher’s “Knight of the Burning Pestle,” about 1613, Act i. sc. 3; where chirping Old Merrythought, “who sings with never a penny in his purse,” gives it thus, while “singing and hoiting” [i.e., skipping]:—

_Nose, nose, jolly red nose,_
_And who gave thee this jolly red nose?_
Cinnamon and ginger, nutmegs and cloves,
_And they gave me this jolly red nose_.

And we know, by _A Booke of Merrie Riddles_, 1630, and 1631, that it was much sung:

—_then Ale-Knights should_
_To sing this song not be so bold,_
Nutmegs, Ginger, Cinamon and Cloves,
They gave us this jolly red nose.

Same p. 155. _This Ale, my bonny lads, &c._

Like Nos. 4, 21, 24, 31, &c., not yet found elsewhere.

Page 156. _What! are we met? Come. &c._

With music by Thomas Holmes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch can_, 1652, p. 46.

Same p. 156. _Jog on, jog on the foot path-way._

The four earliest lines of this ditty are sung by Autolycus the Pedlar, and “picker up of unconsidered trifles,” in Shakespeare’s _Winter’s Tale_ (about 1610), Act iv. sc. 2. Whether the latter portion of the song was also by him (nay, more, whether he actually wrote, or merely quoted even the four opening lines), cannot be determined. We prefer to believe that from his hand alone came the fragment, at least—this lively snatch of melody, with good philosophy, such as the Ascetics reject, to their own damage. No wrong is done in accepting the remainder of the song as genuine. The final verse is orthodox, according to the Autolycusian rule of faith. It is in _Windsor Drollery_, p. 30; and our Introduction to _Westminster-Drollery_, p. xxxv.

Page 157. _The parcht earth drinks_, &c.

Compare, with this lame paraphrase of Anacreon’s racy Ode, the more poetic version by Abraham Cowley, printed in _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, p. 22 (not in 1661 ed. _Merry D._) All of Cowley’s Anacreontiques are graceful and melodious. He and Thomas Stanley fully entered into the spirit of them, _arcades ambo_.

Same p. 157. _A Man of Wales_, &c.

We meet this, six years earlier, in _Wits Interpreter_, 1655 edit., p. 285; 1671, p. 290. Our text is the superior.

Page 158. _Drink, drink, all you that think._

Also found in _Wit and Mirth_, 1684, p. 113.

Page 159. _Welcome, welcome, again to thy wits._

By JAMES SHIRLEY, (1590-1666) in his comedy, “The Example,” 1637, Act v. sc. 3, where it is the Song of Sir Solitary Plot and Lady Plot. Repeated in the _Academy of Complements_, 1670, p. 209. Until after that date, for nearly a century, almost all the best songs had been written for stage plays. It forms an appropriate finale, from the last Dramatist of the old school, to the Restoration merriment, the _Antidote against Melancholy_, of 1661.

In one of the later “Sessions of the Poets” (_vide postea_ Part 4, § 2)—probably, of 1664-5,—Shirley is referred to, ungenerously. He was then aged nearly seventy:—

_Old ~Shirley~ stood up, and made an Excuse,_
_Because many Men before him had got;_
_He vow’d he had switch’d and spur-gall’d his Muse,_
_But still the dull Jade kept to her old trot._

He is also mentioned, with more reverence implied, by George Daniel of Beswick; and we may well conclude this second part of our Appendix with the final verses from the Beswick MS. (1636-53); insomuch as many Poets are therein mentioned, to whom we return in Section Fourth:—

_The noble ~Overburies~ Quill has left_ [verse 20]
_A better Wife then he could ever find:_
_I will not search too deep, lest I should lift_
_Dust from the dead: Strange power, of womankind,_
_To raise and ruine; for all he will claime,_
_As from that sex; his Birth, his Death, his Fame._

_But I spin out too long: let me draw up_
_My thred, to honour names, of my owne time_
_Without their Eulogies, for it may stop_
_With Circumstantiall Termes, a wearie Rhime:_
_Suffice it if I name ’em; that for me_
_Shall stand, not to refuse their Eulogie._

_The noble ~Falkland~, ~Digbie~, ~Carew~, ~Maine~,_
_~Beaumond~, ~Sands~, ~Randolph~, ~Allen~, ~Rutter~, ~May~,_[13]
_The devine ~Herbert~, and the ~Fletchers~ twaine_,
_~Habinton~, ~Shirley~, ~Stapilton~; I stay_ [N.B.]
_Too much on names; yet may I not forget_
_~Davenant~, and ~Suckling~, eminent in witt._

_~Waller~, not wants, the glory of his verse;_
_And meets, a noble praise in every line;_
_What should I adde in honour? to reherse,_
_Admired ~Cleveland~? by a verse of mine?_
_Or give ye glorious Muse of ~Denham~ praise?_
_Soe withering Brambles stand, to liveing Bayes._

_These may suffice; not only to advance_
_Our ~English~ honour, but for ever crowne_
_Poesie, ’bove the reach of Ignorance;_
_Our dull fooles unmov’d, admire their owne_
_Stupiditie; and all beyond their sphere_
_As Madnes, and but tingling in the Eare._

[Final Verse.]

_Great Flame! whose raies at once have power to peirce_
_The frosted skull of Ignorance, and close_
_The mouth of Envie; if I bring a verse_
_Unapt to move; my admiration flowes_
_With humble Love and Zeale in the intent_
_To a cleare Rapture, from the Argument._

(G. D.’s “_A Vindication of Poesie_.”)

End of Notes to _Antidote_.