Chapter X (3)

A Lawier being sicke and extreame ill, [102.]
Was mooved by his friends to make his will,
For they with one consent resolved all;
He never more would see Westminster Hall.
Hee feeling in himselfe his end was neere,
Unto their counsell did encline his eare;
And absolute gave all the wealth he had
To franticke persons, lunaticke and mad,
To no man else he would a pennie give,
But only such as doe in _Bedlem_ live.
This caused his friends most strangely to admire,
And some of them his reason did require?
Quoth he, my reason to you I'le reveale:
That you may see with equitie I deale.
From mad mens hands I did my wealth receave,
Therefore that wealth to madmens hands I leave.

[110.] Not farre from maister _Hobsons_ house, there dwelled one of those cunning men, otherwise called fortune tellers, such cossoning[F. 219] companions, as at this day, (by their Crafts) make simple women beleeve how they can tell what husbands they shall have, how many children, how many sweetharts, and such like: if goods bee stole, who hath them, with promise to helpe them to their losses againe; with many other like deceiptfull elusions. To this wise man (as some termes him) goes maister _Hobson_, not to reap any benefit by his crafty cunning, but to make a Jest, and tryall of his experience, so, causing one of his servants to lead a masty[F. 220] dog after him, staying at the Cuning mans doore with the dog in his hand, up goes master _Hobson_ to y^e wise man, requesting his skil, for he had lost ten pound lately taken from him by theeves, but when and how he knew not well. The cunning man knowing maister _Hobson_ to be one of his neighbors, and a man of a good reputation, fell (as he made showe) to conjuring and casting of figures, and after a few words of incantation, as his common use was, hee tooke a very large faire looking glasse, and bad Maister _Hobson_ to looke in the same, but not to cast his eyes backward in any Case; the which hee did, and therein saw the picture of a huge and large oxe with two broad hornes on his head, the which was no otherwise, but as hee had often deceitfully shewd to others, a cossoning fellow like the cunning man himselfe, clothed in an oxe hide, which fellow he maintained as his servant, to blinde the peoples eyes withall, and to make them beleeve hee could shew them the Divill at his pleasure in a glasse: this vision maister _Hobson_ perceving, & gessing at the knavery thereof, gave a whistle for his dog, which then stayed below at the doore, in his man's keeping, which whistle being no sooner hard but the dog ran up the stayers to his maister, as hee had beene mad, and presently fastned upon the poor fellow in the oxe hide, and so tore him as it was pittifull to see. The Cunning man cried for the passion of God take off your dog. No, (quoth Maister _Hobson_) let the Divill and the Dogge fight, venture thou thy divill, and I will venture my dog. To conclude, the oxe hide was torne from the fellows backe, and so their knaveryes were discovered, and their cunning shifts layd open to the world.

[Footnote 219: Cozening, cheating.]

[Footnote 220: Mastiff.]

[94.] A Country fellow going down _Ludgate Hill_, his heels by chance slipping from him, fell upon his Breech: one standing by, told him that _London_ Streets were stout and scornful: It may be so, quoth he, yet I made them to kisse my Breech, as stout as they were.

The London Ladies Vindication

of

Top-Knots:

With the many Reasons that She shows for the Continuation of the same:

As also proving Men to be as Proud as themselves.

To the Tune of, _Here I love, There I love_: Or, _The two English Travellers_.

Licensed according to Order.

Young Women and Damsels that love to go fine, [112.]
Come listen a while to this Ditty of mine,
In spight of all Poets, brave Girls, we will wear
_Our Towers and Top Knots, with Powdered Hair_.

I am a young Woman, 'tis very well known,
And I am resolv'd to make use of my own,
In spight of all Poets, brave Girls, we will wear
_A Tower and Top Knot, with Powdered Hair_.

They talk of a Calf which was seen in our dress,
But let us take Courage, Girls, nevertheless.
In spight of those Rumours, we'll constantly wear
_A Tower and Top Knot, and Powdered Hair_.

We are not such Fools to believe what they say,
'Tis fit that young Women should go fine and gay,
In spight of their Bugbears, brave Girls, let us wear,
_Rich Towers and Top Knots, with Powdered Hair_.

Were we to be Ruled by some sort of Men,
We should go like Women of Fourscore and Ten,
In spight of those Cox combs, brave Girls, we will wear
_Rich Towers and Top Knots, with Powdered Hair_.

Like Beautiful Angels we strive to appear,
The Hearts of our Husbands in order to cheer,
Then what is the Reason that we may not wear
_Rich Towers and Top Knots, with Powdered Hair_.

If we are the Pleasure and Joy of their Life,
Pray when can they take more delight in a Wife,
Then at the same time when rich Garments they wear,
_With Towers and Top Knots, and Powdered Hair_.

We see the young Misses and Jilts of the Town,
Have six Stories high, as they walk up and down,
Then pray tell me why should not honest Wives wear
_Rich Towers and Top Knots, with Powdered Hair_.

If we an't as Fine and as Gaudy as they,
Who knows but our Husbands might soon run astray,
Consider this, Women, and still let us wear
_Our Towers and Topknots, with Powdered Hair_.

It is but a Folly to tell us of Pride,
While we have these Arguments still on our side;
As long as we live we will flourishing wear
_Rich Towers and Top Knots, with Powdered Hair_.

Nay further I'le tell ye the case it is thus,
That all is not sav'd which is put in the Purse;
A Shopkeepers Lady she utters much Ware
_When drest in her Top Knots, with Powdered Hair_.

What Man would not have his Wife richly Array'd
When as he well knows it enlarges his Trade;
Come, come, I must tell ye, 'tis fit we should wear
_Rich Towers and Top Knots, with Powdered Hair_.

Sometimes when our Husbands are out of the way,
Pray tell me what huffing young Gallants will stay,
If that a fine Delicate Wife were not there?
_Then Hey for the Top Knots, and Powdered Hair_.

Some young-men may flout us, yet mark what I say,
There's no Woman living, now Prowder than they;
Observe but the many knick-knacks which they wear.
_More Costly than Top Knots, or Powdered Hair_.

Their Wigg, Watch, and Rapiers we daily behold,
And Embroidered Wastcoats of Silver and Gold;
Likewise, Turn up Stockings, they constantly wear
_More Costly than Topknots, or Powdered Hair_.

If Pride be a sin and a folly, why then
Han't we a far better Example from Men?
If Gaudy Apparel those Gallants do wear,
_We will have our Top Knots and Powdered Hair_.

Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Black.

[103.] A Gentleman in a Town in _Hartfordshire_, being much in Debt, was oblig'd to keep House close, a Bailiff who had been promised a great reward to take that Gentleman, having made several attempts in vain to snap him, at last resolv'd upon one that he thought could not fail, so pretending himself in dispair, came by the Gentlemans Parlor Window, (which was next the Street, and where he sat Writing every Day) and pulling out of his Pocket a Halter, made a Nooze, and seemed as if he intended to Hang himself therewith; a Grindstone was before the Door, upon which he got up, and threw the Rope over a good Bough of the Tree, and fastned it, and then put his Head in, concluding the Gentleman would whip out, and so he should arrest him; but as the Devil would have it, the Grindstone which stood firm like a Rock for him to get up, tumbled down as soon as ever the Halter was about his Neck, the Innocent, Unwary Gentleman seeing what past, sallied out, to Cut the Rope, and save the Man; but the Bailiff's Follower lying in Ambuscade, snap'd the Gentleman as soon as ever he peept out, and carried him off, and let his Master hang; who carried the Jest too far, and when the Gentleman told the Bailiff's Follower that his Master would soon be Dead if he did not cut him down--Let him be D---- said he, I have got my Prize, and I shall have the Reward, and my Masters place too.

[26.] A Man being very much diseas'd and weak, was bemoaning himself to his only Son, whom he lov'd very well. For, _Jack_, says he, if I stand, my Legs ake, if I kneel my Knees ake, if I go, my Feet ake, if I lie then my Back akes, if I sit my Hips ake, if I lean, my Elbows ake. Why truly, Father, says he, (like a good dutiful Child) I advise you, Father, to hang yourself an hour or two, and if that does not do, then come to me again.

[67.] A Scholer being at a Parson's house, stole a Pig; the Parson looking out at his window, spied him and said, Scholer, Scholer, I'le none of that. Noe more you shall, quoth y^e Scholer, and ran away with it.

[82.] A Nobleman of France (as hee was riding) met with a yeoman of the Country, to whom he said, My friend, I should know thee, I doe remember I have often seene thee: My good Lord, said the Countryman, I am one of your Honors poore tenants, and my name is T. I. I remember thee better now (said my Lord) there were two brothers of you, but one is dead, I pray which of you doth remaine alive.

The aforesaid Nobleman having had a Harper that was blinde playing to him after supper, somewhat late, at last hee arose, and commanded one of his servants to light the Harper downe the staires: to whom the Serving man sayd, my Lord, the Harper is blind; thou ignorant knave, quoth my Lord, he hath the more need of light.

[105.] When that _Scogin_ had taught his scholler that hee with helpe might be Sub deacon, he said to him, thou shalt goe to take orders, and I will go with thee. And if thou dost stand in any doubt, take heed to my booke, and give an eare to me, and I will helpe thee as much as I can. When all they that should take orders, were come to oppositions, _Scogin_ did come forth with his scholler. And the Ordinary did oppose him with a verse of the Psalter; which was this, _Moab, Agareni, Gebal, Amon & Amalek, cum habitantibus Tirum_. _Scogins_ scholler was blanke or amazed. Sir, said _Scogin_ to the Ordinary, you shall understand that _Moab, Agareni, Gebal, Amon & Amalek, cum habitantibus Tirum_, were unhappy fellowes, for they did trouble the children of Israel, and if they trouble my scholler, it is no marvell: but now I doe tell thee, my scholler, be not afraid of _Moab, Agareni, Gebal, Amon & Amalek, cum habitantibus Tirum_, for I will stand beside to comfort thee, for _Moab, Agareni &c_ can do thee no harm for they be dead. By reason that _Scogin_ did so oft repeate these words, the scholler did reade this verse aforesaid: and through _Scogins_ promise, the Ordinary was content that his scholler should take Orders, and be Sub deacon. After this when the orders were given againe, _Scogin_ did speake to his schollers Father, to send in a letter three or foure peeces of gold. The Schollers Father was content so to doe; so that his son might be Deacon. Then said _Scogin_ to his scholler, thou shalt deliver this letter to the Ordinary, when he doth sit in oppositions, and as soone as he feeleth the letter, he will perceive that I have sent him some money, and he will say to thee _Quomodo valet magister tuus?_ that is to say, how doth thy Master? thou shalt say _Bene_: that is to say, well. Then will he say, _Quid petis?_ What thing doest thou aske? Then thou shalt say, _Diaconatum_, to be a Deacon. Then the Ordinary will say, _Es tu literatus?_ art thou learned? & thou shalt say _Aliqualiter_, somewhat. Now said _Scogin_, thou hast no more than three words to beare in mind in Latine, which is to say _Bene_, _Diaconatum_, and _Aliqualiter_. The father and the scholler were glad that by _Scogins_ letters & the money he should be Deacon, & went to the oppositions, and delivered his letter with the money. The Ordinary perceiving money in the letter, said to the scholler. _Quid petis?_ that is to say, what dost thou aske or desire? The scholler remembring _Scogins_ words, that the first word was _Bene_, he said _Bene_, that is, well. When the Ordinary heard him say so, he said _Quomodo valet Magister tuus?_ How doth thy Master? The scholler said, _Diaconatum_ that is to say Deacon. The Ordinary did see he was a foole, & said, _Tu es stultus_, thou art a foole: the scholler said _Aliqualiter_, that is to say, somewhat. Nay, said the Ordinary not _Aliqualiter_, but _Totaliter_, a starke foole. Then the scholler was amazed, and said, sir, let me not goe home without mine Orders, and heere is another Angell of gold for you to drinke. Well, said the Ordinary, on that condition you will promise me to goe to your booke and learne, you shall bee Deacon at this time. Heere a man may see that money is better than learning.

[17.] In a wedding between a Gentleman of a great Family and no Wealth, and a Widdow of great Wealth; says one This is like a Black pudding; the one brought _blood_, and the other _Suet_ and _Oatmeal_.

[110.] In the beginning of Queene Elizabeaths raigne, when the order of hanging out lanterne and Candlelight first of all was brought up; the bedell of the warde where Maister _Hobson_ dwelt, in a darke evening crieing up and downe, hang out your lantornes; using no other words. Whereupon Maister _Hobson_ tooke an empty lantorne, and according to the beadles call hung it out. This flout by the Lord Maior was taken in ill part, and for the same offence was sent to the counter; but being released, the next night following, the beadle thinking to amend his call, cried with a loud voice, hang out your lantorne and Candle. Maister _Hobson_ hereupon hung out a lantorne and candle unlighted, as the beadle againe commanded, whereupon he was sent againe to the counter. But the next night the beadle being better advised, cryed, hang out your lantorne and candle light, hang out your lantorne and candle light, which maister _Hobson_ at last did, to his great commendations, which cry of lanthorne and candle light is in right manner used to this day.

[94.] One observ'd it to be a good fashion that was worn now a days, because the Taylors had so contrivd it, that there was little or no Waste in a whole Suit.

The illustration to this satire on drunkenness (which is dated September 1652) is indebted for its point to the foxes, it being then a cant term when a man was drunk to say he was _foxed_; the geese denote the foolish behaviour of men when under the influence of drink.

BARNABIES SUMMONS:

or,

Paie your Groat in the Morning.

[113.] Intended for all Malaga Men, called Vintners, Sack drawers, White wine, Claret, Rhenish, Bastard Sherry, or Canary Blades, and Birds, together with all Ale Brewers, Beer Brewers (alias) Hogshead fillers, Barrellers, Tapsters, or Firkinners: As also for all Drawers, Tub Tapsters, Quaffers, Huffers, Puffers, Snuffers, Rufflers, Scufflers, and Shufflers, with Wine bibbers, Sack suckers, and Toast makers; not forgetting other depending Officers of a lower Rank, of our stumbling Fraternity, viz Bench whistlers, Lick-wimbles, Suck spigots, Hawkers, Spewterers, Maudliners, Fox catchers, including in the said Warrant as a Reserve, our true and trusty Friends for the speedier effecting our designe and purpose, All Vulcans, Crispins, Tinkers, Pedlars, and of late our endeared friends, the Society of Upstart Printers, and Newes Mongers; and excluding by special command, all Three peny Ordinary Sharks, as Bakers, Weavers, Tailors, Usurers, Snip Eared Scriveners, Presbyters, either English, Scotch, or Dutch, (but stay there a little) for though the last of these be good for nothing else, yet they are stout Drinkers and Drunkards; and therefore if they please to tiple as formerly they have done, and must doe now, they shall have the benefit of this our Warrant, provided they neither drink all, nor too much; our Warrant for the generall content of all BONOS SOCIOS is set out in maner and forme following, that all whom it may concern (as it does too many) may, if they can stand, understand it.

Execute your Warrant.

Beware your Geese.]

The WARRANT.

Know all men by these presents, that we, Sir _Resolute Rednose_, of the Town of _Taplow_, in the County of Cumberland, with our dear and trusty Cosins Sir _Ferdinando Fiery Face_, Lord _Sigismund Ruby Nose_, together with our associates and fellow Commissioners, Sir _William Swill-boule_, Sir _Gregory Toss-pot_, Sir _Thomas Spend-all_, Sir _Alexander Dry lips_, Sir _Lewis Lick-Spiggot_, _Edward Barley_, _Thomas Maltster_, _Richard Brewer_, and _Geffery Tapster_ Esquires &c. By vertue of a _Mandamus_, or a _fieri facias_, issued unto us from the great Wine Cellar in _Bacchus_ Prerogative Court, near to Stumbling Alley, from the Lord _James Fill-Pot_, and Signeur _Jeronymo Tap-lash_, do Enact, appoint, and ordaine, that any and every person, male or female, of what Countrey soever, being taken so drunk, that they are without wit, sence, or reason, shall forthwith pay to the under Officers herein named, viz, to John _Bottle nose_, _William Suck-all_, _Gerard Turn-Tub_, and _Jenkin ap Morgan_ of _Ale-ton_, or to their Deputy, or Deputies, the full and just sum of 4^d without any resistance or delay upon the next Morning; but in case of any of the Delinquents in the Premises, shall be so ingenuous as to confesse their fault without distraining, that then this Penalty shall not exceed above 2^d. But in case the parties are resolved to ride the old ridden Jade called _Cut_, or a Dog of the same Haire[F. 221] next morning, without any remorse, and will presume to hunt the Fox againe, that then our said Bayliffs, and Deputies are forthwith either to joyne with them, or else to suspend the execution of this our said Warrant, till he or they may be sober, which is much feared will not quickly be effected; and therefore, for the better and surer progresse herein, that Justice may be the sooner executed, we enjoyn all Constables of Burroughs and Parishes as well high as Petty, to be assisting to this our merry Warrant, and do desire them if they or any of their substitute Officers can find leasure from sleep, or their nodding benches, to examine the Premises and Persons, to shew due respects unto them, considering well that the case and cause not only hath been their own, but suddenly and shortly will be again, as soon as they can either meet with merry Company or good moneys. Hereof they or any of them are not to faile at their utmost perils.

To all Constables, Head boroughs,
and other petty Officers,
and stout Drinkers, whom this
specially concernes.

Given at our Mannour of
_Flushing_ in the _Full Moone
Tavern_ at Sun rising

Anno 155432.

Upon the last day of the first
of March.

_Ut Supra._

[Footnote 221: _Sic in orig._]

[26.] One told a Story (which he swore was of certain as you know all these things are,) For, says he, I was riding to Saint _Albans_, and riding through a Lane, that was of stiff Clay, as I was galloping, my Horses foot sticking in, pluckt off shoe and hooff too, and so I gallopt on for three or four Miles; and my horse never complained, that I never saw a horse gallop so well on three legs in my life; at length he began to limp, then I lighted to see what he ailed and found both shooe and hooff gone; so, fearing to pay for the horse, got presently up agen, and gallopt as fast as I could drive; and fortunately my Horse leg lighted agen in the same place, and pull'd up hooff, shoe and all, which was better fastened than when I came out; and so I performed my journy, and got that night as far as I rid.

One evening as Cold as Cold might be, [91.]
With frost and haile, and pinching weather,
Companions about three times three
Lay close all in a pound together.
Yet one after another they tooke a heate,
And died that night all in a sweat.

_Resolution._ A pound of Candles.

=Dead and Alive.=

This DITTY out of _Gloucestershire_ was sent,
To _London_, for to have it put in Print;
Therefore draw near, and listen unto this,
It doth concern a Man that did Amiss;
And so to shun the Anger of his WIFE,
He thought with Poyson for to end his Life,
But instead of Poyson he drank Sack,
For which his Wife did soundly pay's back--

To the Tune of _Old Flesh_ &c.--

There was a shaving Royster, [114.]
as I heard many tell,
In _Michal-Danes_ fair forest,
in _Gloucestershire_ did dwell;

Some call'd him _William Wiseman_,
but in that they were to blame,
Some call'd him _Leonard Lackwit_,
but that was not his name;
His name was _Simple Simon_,
as it is well approv'd,
And among his Friends and Kinsfolks,
he dearly was belov'd:
He capor'd and he vapour'd
and he liv'd a merry life,
But yet, good Man, at all times,
he could not rule his Wife.

His Wife she was a Woman,
that lov'd a cup of Sack,
And she would tipple soundly,
behind her Husband's back;
A bottle she had gotten that
would hold two quarts or more,
Well fill'd with wine she hang'd it
behind her chamber door:
And she told unto her Husband
that it was poyson strong,
And bad him not to touch it,
for fear of doing wrong:
If thou drink but one drop on't,
(quoth she) 'twill end thy life;
Therefore in time take heed,
and be ruled by thy Wife.

This Simon's wife had plenty
of fatting hogs and pigs,
With geese, ducks, hens, and turkies,
that laid great store of eggs:
Both Sheep and such like cattel,
fine ews and pritty lambs,
Which up and down the forrest
did feed, and suck their dams;
She put trust to her Husband
to look unto them all,
To keep them safe from danger;
now mark what did befal:
He did his best endeavour
to shun all sorts of strife,
And yet through strange misfortune
he could not please his Wife.

One morning she sent him
to field to keep her sheep,
And charg'd him to be watchful,
and take heed he did not sleep:
A piece of bread and butter
she gave him in his hand,
Whereby she made him promise
to do as she did command.
But see what happened to him,
when he came to the field,
He fell asleep, while foxes
three of his lambs had killed:
This bred a great dissention
and rais'd a world of strife,
Till _Simon_ for his fault
had beg'd pardon of his Wife.

Another day she sent him
her ducks and geese to tend,
And charg'd him on her blessing,
he should no more offend:
Her goslins and her chickens
with him she put in trust,
Who took a stick and told them,
for they were twenty just:
But a woful chance befel to
poor _Simon_ before night,
For seven of his chickens
were took prisoners by the kite:
This vexed him, and it made him
half weary of his life,
For he knew not what answer
to make unto his Wife.

Next morning when that _Simon_
was sent to milk the cow,
Another strange mishap there was
done to him by the sow;
For whilst that he was driving
the little pigs away,
The sow came into the dairy-house
and swill'd up all the whey;
The cheese out of the cheese fat
she did both tear and hawl,
And so threw down the cream-pot,
and made an end of all:
Wherewith she burst her belly,
and so she lost her life,
And poor _Simon_ knew not what answer
to make unto his wife.

When's Wife came in the dairy-house,
and saw what there was done,
A strong and fierce encounter
she presently begun;
She pull'd him by the ears,
and she wrung him by the nose,
And she kickt him on the belly,
while the tears ran down his hose.
And she vow'd to be revenged
before the morrow day,
For all the brood of chickens,
which the kite had carried away:
Poor _Simon_ stood amazed,
being weary of his life,
For he good Man was tired
with his unruly Wife.

For when that he perceived
his Wife in such a rage,
Nor knowing how, nor which way
his fury to asswage:
He cunningly got from her,
and to the chamber went,
Thinking himself to poyson,
for that was his intent;
So coming to the bottle,
which I spoke of before,
He thought it to be poyson,
which hung behind the door:
He vow'd to drink it all up,
and end his wretched life,
Rather than live in thraldom,
with such a cursed Wife.

So opening of a window, which
stood towards the South,
He took the bottle of sack,
and set it to his mouth:
Now will I drink this poyson,
(quoth he) with all my heart;
So that the first draught he drunk on't
he swallowed near a quart:
The second time that he set
the bottle to his snout,
He never left off swigging,
till he had suckt all out:
Which done, he fell down backward
like one bereft of life,
Crying out, I now am poysoned
by means of my cursed Wife.

Quoth he, I feel the poyson
now run through every vein,
It rumbles in my belly,
and it tickles in my brain;
It wambles in my stomack,
and it molifies my heart,
It pierceth through my members,
and yet I feel no smart;
Would all that have curst wives,
example take hereby,
For I dye as sweet a death sure,
as ever man did dye:
'Tis better with such poyson,
to end a wretched life,
Than to live, and be tormented
with such a wicked Wife.

Now see what followed after,
his Wife by chance did walk,
And coming by the window,
she heard her _Simon_ talk;
And thinking on her bottle,
she up the stairs did run,
And came into the chamber,
to see what he had done;
When as she saw her Husband,
lying drunk upon his back,
And the bottle lying by him,
but never a drop of sack:
I am poyson'd, I am poyson'd,
quoth he, long of my Wife,
I hope I shall be at quiet
now I have lost my life.

Pox take you, are you poyson'd,
(quoth she) I now will strive,
And do my best endeavour
to make you run alive:
With that a quill of powder
she blew up in his nose,
Then like a man turn'd antick,
he presently arose;
So down the stairs he run straight,
into the open street,
With hooping and hollowing,
to all that he did meet;
And with a loud voice cryed out,
I am raised from death to life,
By virtue of a powder, that
was given me by my Wife.

Some folks that did behold him,
were in a grievous fear,
For seeing of a Madman,
they durst not him come near:
He leaped and he skipped,
thorow fair and thorow foul,
Whilst the people gaz'd upon him
like pyce upon an owl:
His Wife she followed after,
thorow thick, and thorow thin,
And with a basting cudgel
she soundly bang'd his skin:
And thus poor _Simon_ cryed out
I'm raised from death to life,
By virtue of a powder, that
was given me by my Wife.

At last a friend of _Simon's_
which was to him some kin,
By fair and kind persuasions,
open'd door and let him in;
He sent for _Simon's_ Wife, and
so made them both good friends,
Who kindly kist each other,
and so all discord ends;
The Neighbours all rejoyced
to see them thus agreed,
And like a loving couple
to bed they went with speed.
No doubt but _Simple Simon_
that night well pleas'd his wife,
For ever since that time, he
hath lived a quiet life.

_London_: Printed by and for _W. Onley_,[F. 222] and _A. Melbourn_;[F. 223] and sold by the Booksellers of _Pye Corner_ and _London Bridge_.

[Footnote 222: Published between 1650 and 1702.]

[Footnote 223: Published between 1670 and 1697.]

[93.] _George_ (_Peele_) was making merry with three or foure of his friends in Pye Corner; where the Tapster of the house was much given to Poetrie: for he had ingrossed The Knight of the Sunne, Venus and Adonis, and other Pamphlets which the Stripling had collected together; and knowing _George_ to be a Poet, he tooke great delight in his company, and out of his bounty would bestow a brace of Cannes of him. _George_ observing the humour of the Tapster, meant presently to worke upon him. What will you say, quoth _George_ to his friends, if, out of this spirit of the Cellar, I fetch a good Angell, that shall bid us all to supper. We would gladly see that quoth his friends. Content your selfe, quoth _George_. The Tapster ascends with his two Cannes, delivers one to Master _Peele_, and the other to his friends: gives them kind welcome: but _George_, in stead of giving him thankes, bids him not to trouble him: and beginnes in these termes: I protest, Gentlemen, I wonder you will urge me so much; I sweare I have it not about me. What is the matter? quoth the Tapster. Hath any one angered you? No, faith, quoth _George_, Ile tell thee, it is this: There is a friend of ours in Newgate, for nothing but onely the command of the Justices, and he being now to be released, sends to me to bring him an Angell: now the man I love dearely well; and if hee want tenne Angels he shall have them; for I know him sure: but heere's the misery, either I must goe home, or I must be forced to pawne this; and pluckes an old Harry-groat out of his pocket. The Tapster lookes upon it: Why, and it please you, Sir, quoth he, this is but a groat. No, Sir, quoth _George_, I know it is but a groat: but this groat will I not lose for forty pound: for this groat had I of my mother, as a testimony of a Lease of a House I am to possesse after her decease; and if I should lose this groat, I were in a faire case: and either I must pawne this groat, or there the fellow must lye still. Quoth the Tapster, If it please you, I will lend you an Angell on it, and I will assure you it shall bee safe. Wilt thou? quoth _George_; as thou art an honest man, locke it up in thy Chest, and let me have it whensoever I call for it. As I am an honest man, you shall, quoth the Tapster. _George_ delivered him his groat; the Tapster gave him ten shillings: to the Taverne goe they with the money, and there merrily spend it. It fell out, some time after, the Tapster, having many of these lurches,[F. 224] fell to decay, and indeede was turned out of service, having no more coine in the world than this groat, and in this misery, hee met _George_, as poore as himselfe. O, Sir, quoth the Tapster, you are happily met; I have your groat safe, though since I saw you last, I have bid great extremitie; and I protest, save that groat, I have not any one penny in the world; therefore I pray you, Sir, helpe me to my money, and take your pawne. Not for the World, quoth George: thou saist thou hast but that Groat in the world: my bargaine was, that thou shouldst keepe that groat, untill I did demand it of thee: I ask thee none. I will doe thee farre more good; because thou art an honest fellow, keepe thou that groat still, till I call for it: and so doing, the proudest Jacke in England cannot justifie that thou art not worth a groat; otherwise, they might: and so, honest Michael, farewell. So George leaves the poore Tapster picking of his fingers, his head full of proclamations what he might doe: at last sighing, hee ends with this Proverbe

For the price of a Barrel of Beere
I have bought a groats worth of wit,
Is not that deare?

[Footnote 224: Drains on his purse.]

[67.] In a certaine towne there was a goose stolne, and it could not bee found, out who stole it; so y^e minister a while after at service, bade all y^e people kneele downe, who answered I. (aye) Many did, but saith hee, he that stole y^e goose doth not. But I doe, quoth hee, and was taken.

[103.] An English Gentleman taking into his Service (in pure Compassion) an Irishman, who was forc'd to leave his Country upon his Conversion from the Romish (of which he was a Priest) to the English Church: Employed him in Errands, and sometimes let him follow him, to acquaint him with the Town; and having staid at a Coffee House some time, in expectation of a Man with whom he had Business, who not coming, he left his Servant there, to tell him that he could stay no longer, but was gone to such a Tavern. The Fellow immediately run after his Master, and ask'd him What he should say to the Gentleman if he should not come?

[110.] A poore begger man, that was foule, blacke, and loathsome to behould, came on a time to Maister _Hobson_ as he walked in Moore feelds, and asked something of him for an almes, to which Maister _Hobson_ said, I prethee, good fellow, get thee from me, for thou lookst as thou camst lately out of hell. The poore begger man, perceving hee would give him nothing, answered forsooth, Sir, you say true, for I came lately out of Hell indeed; why didst not thou tarry there still? quoth maister _Hobson_; nay, Sir, quoth the begger, there is no Roome for such begerr men as I am, for all is kept for such gentlemen Cittizens as you be: this wity answere caused Maister _Hobson_ to give the poore man a teaster.[F. 225]

[Footnote 225: Sixpence.]

[82.] A Fellow having more drinke than wit, in a winter evening made a foolish vowe, to take the wall of as many as hee met betwixt the Temple bar, and Charing Crosse; and comming neere the Savoy, where stood a Poste, a little distance from the wall, the Drunkard tooke it for a man, and would have the wall, beginning to quarrell and give the Poste foule words: at which a man came by, and asked the matter, and whom he spake to: hee answered hee would have the wall of that fellow that stood so stiffly there: my friend, said the other, that is a Poste, you must give him the way. Is it so, said the fellow, a pox upon him, why did he not blow his horn?

[26.] Two Baboons being to be seen at their first coming to _London_, abundance of Citizens and others did resort thither to take a view of them, and did heartily laugh at their ugliness, and the strange faces which they made; which a most motherly and very discreet woman being present, did sharply thus rebuke 'em. "D'ye think you do well to laugh at strangers, who understand not your Language, and if you were in their Country, you'd take it for a great abuse, I warrant you, if they should laugh at you."

[4.] King _James_ Riding a Hunting in Essex, comes to a Gate which he must go through, and seeing a Country Clown at it, he says to him, Prethee, good Fellow, open the gate. But he, knowing who it was, answered, No, a'nt please your Grace, I am not worthy to be in that Office; but I'le run and fetch M^r _Johnson_, who is a Justice of the Peace, and lives a Mile off, and he shall open it for your Grace: so he ran away as fast as he could, and left the King to open it himself.

THE FRENCH DANCING-MASTER

AND THE

ENGLISH SOLDIER.

Or, the Difference betwixt Fidling and Fighting

Displayed in a DIALOGUE betwixt an ENGLISHMAN

and a FRENCHMAN.

_Englishman._

_Monsieur_, good morn, whither away so faste? [115.]
Some great importance sure doth cause this haste;
Your running looks do in effect thus say,
_Monsieur_ is gone, 'cause Landlord asketh pay.

_Frenchman._

_Begar_ me no sush man, me scorn de shift
Me plus Affaires dat me from home do lift.

_Englishman._

You scorn to shift, tis true I think you say,
Witness your _Shirt_, not washt this many a day.

_Frenchman._

_Par me foy_ de Rascall to degrase,
_Ne autre_ man in de _varle_ live in such case;
_Begar_ though me no speak si bon English,
Me thrush Tord in de belly if de speak dis;
_Begar_ me de born Gentil-man de _France_
Me can learn English _a le mode_ de Dance:
Me play ode leetle Fidle, me can sing,
_Par ma foy_, no Poet _Orphus_ sush Musick bring;
_Begar_, you no sush man in all de _England_ have,
For de Fidle, and de Dancing brave.

_Englishman._

But when you come to meet your Foe in face
The Fidler and the Fidler's out of case.

_Frenchman._

_Begar_ de art _Jack-napes_ to a teetle,
Me be brave Fellow, me can feight a leetle;
Me wear _Feader_ in de Hat, me have _Tord_ by side,
Me be de Gentil-man when me on de _Horse_ ride;
_Englishman_ be a Clown, make Leg like a de Beare,
_Frenchman_ be de Gentil-man, he fidle, and he dance rare.

_Englishman._

'Tis true, in dancing you do us excel,
But can you, as the English, fight as well?
When _Mars_ unsheaths his Sword, and Canons roar,
And men lye welt'ring in their purple gore,
When Towns are burnt, and Cities are destroy'd,
To what use will your Dancing be employ'd?

_Frenchman._

_Begar_ he de great Fool to speak sush ting,
Brava, brava, de Dance, de Fidele, Sing;
No sush ting in de varle, to peepe, to dance,
To be dreass like de Madam, _a le Mode France_.

_Englishman._

Brave Monsieur! gallant Monsieur! wondrous rare!
Fidling and fooling, none with thee compare!

_Frenchman._

_Begar_, he be de Rogue, de Villain, de Carle,
To speak 'gainst de Dance, de brave ting in de varle;
_Begar_ me do love it out of all de Cry,
_Par ma foy_ he speak 'gainst it, tell loud lye:
_France-man_ is de Gentilman in de high Sphere,
Vat is de Clown vas dis skip de Angleterre
De French Monsieur skip and leap like de Spright,
He caper and kick, is not dat a rare Shite?

_Englishman._

A rare Shite 'tis indeed, I needs must say,
To see men skip like Puppets in a Play;
To act the Mimick, fidle, prate and Dance,
And cringe like Apes, is a le mode France:
But to be resolute, one to fight with ten,
And beat them, 's proper unto English men.

_Frenchman._

_Begar_ France man is couragio, feight like te Tiffell,
He kill, he slay, cutt men off de midle;
De brave Monsieurs, de _Oliver_, de _Rowland_,
_Begar_ de feight as long as de could stand;
_Amadis de Gaule_, de _Roy Charlemain_,
De make blood run down like drops of de rain,
_Begar_, with new fashion so exc'lent! so rare!
No men in de varle wid de French make compare.

_Englishman._

But _Monsieur_, have you never heard report
Of Poictiers, Crescy, and of Agen-court?
When _France_ was drown'd with streams of Frenchmen's blood,
And English Valor could not be withstood?
Sixth HENRY in _Paris_ Crown'd in State,
And _France_ (submissive) did on _England_ wait.
When only TALBOT'S Name did bear such sway,
To make Ten thousand French men run away?
Is not _France_, and the Nation still the same,
Whom _England_ did in all Encounters tame?
Have we not Hero's still who are endu'd
With Valor, (Stars of the first Magnitude?)
YORKS Duke, Brave ALBEMARLE, equal to those
Our Ancestors, who French men did oppose?
With other Worthies of deserved Fame,
Make Frenchmen tremble for to hear their Name.

_Frenchman._

_Begar_ dis true, de English-man speak right,
_France_ leave to Dance, and now de learn to Fight.
_Adieu Monsieur._

LONDON, Printed in the Year 1666.

[103.] A Nobleman often hunting, used to be always near his Huntsman, who was an excellent old Servant, and one of whom he priz'd, and was often familiar with; but at coming to a Hedge or Ditch, he wou'd call him, _Jack_ do you leap first. Not I by G--, my Lord, (reply's he) do you go first and break your Neck, if you please, I value mine a little more.

[82.] A Countrey woman at an Assize was to take her oath against a party; the said party entreated the Judge that her oath might not bee taken; the Judge demanded why he excepted against her: my Lord (quoth hee) shee is a Recusant or Romane Catholique, and they hold it in no matter of Conscience to swear any thing against us. Come hither, woman, said the Judge, I doe not thinke thou art a Recusant, I am perswaded that for fourty shillings thou wilt sweare the Pope is a knave: Good, my Lord, said shee, the Pope is a stranger to mee, but if I knew him as well as I know your Lordship, I would sweare for half the mony.

[116.] The following satire is given merely as a type:

From Commonwealth Coblers, and zealous State Tinkers,
From Speeches and Expedients of Politick Blinkers,
From Rebellious Taps, and Tapsters, and Skinkers.
Libera nos.

From Elephant Baptists, and their doughty free State,
From looking in _Newgate_ through Reformation Grate,
And from their last sayings and Hempen-ruff Fate.
Libera nos.

From Papists on one hand, and Phanatick o' th' t'other,
From Presbyter _Jack_, the Popes younger brother,
And Congregational Daughters far worse than their Mother.
Libera nos.

From Religions that teach men to kill and to slay,
From faith that is coupled with the word Disobey,
And from Sectaries e'er having of another day.
Libera nos.

From Members that constantly quarrel with the Head,
And subjects that for Sterling, pay their Sovereign with Lead,
And preserve Kings and Governments by wishing them dead.
Libera nos.

From over short Parliaments, and over long,
From a selling our Birth rights for an old song,
And breaking _Mag. Charta_ to make it more strong.
Libera nos.

From taking away Juries by Parliament Votes,
And securing from Popery by cutting of throats,
From a Beam in our Eye, to cure them of Motes.
Libera nos.

From "Vox"es, and factious saucy Addresses,
To repeal those good Laws of honest Qu. _Bess'es_
From Fanaticks rage, and the Popes God bless us.
Libera nos.

From a Bill that to take away Ale and Cake voices,
Robs all the old Freeholders, at Elections, of Choices,
And enables Fanaticks to make greater Noises.
Libera nos.

From the wisdom of _Bedlam_, and the anger of Fools,
From the whipping and learning of meeting house Schools
And the Exit of Traytors, and Commonwealth Tools.
Libera nos.

Of the following satire only a portion is given, as the pamphlet (of ten pages) is too long to give _in extenso_:--

[117.] Received out of the Treasuries of the Excize, Customs
and the Exchequer £430,000.

Disbursed as followeth

The ACCOMPT.