Chapter M (6)

Why that is no matter, quoth he,
so I may have her Bags of Gold,
Let her not spare to Brawl and Scold,
for I'll be as merry, as merry can be.

This Woodcock wedded his hearts desire,
a Widow with Money enough;
They was not so soon out of the Quire,
ee'r she began to snuff.[F. 139]

Methink you be very fine,
you can no quicker get you hence,
Without such large and great expence,
of Sugar'd Sops and Musick to dine.

They was not all at supper set,
or at the board sate down,
E'er she began to brawl and scold,
and call'd him a peaking Clown:

That nothing could he doe
that was pleasing in her sight,
But still she scolded day and night,
which made this merry man's heart full of woe.

If he had provided any good cheer,
for him and her alone,
Then she wou'd a said, with words more hot,
you might a done this of your own;

If sparingly he will be,
then she would have said, with words more hot,
I will not be pinch'd of what I brought,
but of mine own I will be free.

That nothing he could doe,
that was pleasing in his sight
But still she scolded day and night,
which made this merry man's heart full of woe.

A hundred times he curst
the Priest, the Clerk, the Sexton too.
And tongue that did the Widow wooe
and legs that brought him first.

It fell out upon a day
that with his friends he did devise
To break her of her scolding guise,
and what they did they shall be wary;

They got and tyed her Arms,
she could not them undoe.
And many other pretty Charms
they used her unto.

Her Petticoat was rent and torn,
upon her Back they did put on,
They tore her smock sleeves all along,
as if a Bedlam she had been born;

Her hair about her head they shook,
all with a Bramble bush.
They ring her Arms in every crook
till out the blood did gush,

And with an Iron Chain
fast by the leg he did her tye
There within an old dark House by;
so soon he went away again;

And with a countenance so sad
he did his Neighbours call.
Quoth he my Wife is Mad,
she doth so rave and brawl;

Help Neighbours all therefore,
to see if that you can reclaim,
My Wife into her Wits again
for she is troubled wondrous sore.

FINIS.

Printed for B. Brooksby at the Golden Ball in Pye Corner.

[Footnote 139: To take umbrage.]

[82.] A Cardinall of Rome had a goodly faire house new built, but the broken brickes, tiles, sand, lime, stones, and such rubbish as are commonly the remnants of such buildings, lay confusedly in heapes and scattered here and there: The Cardinall demanded of his Survayor wherefore the rubbish was not conveyed away: The Survayor said that he proposed to hyre an hundred Carts for the purpose. The Cardinall replyed that the charge of Carts might be saved, for a pitt might bee digged in the ground and bury it. My Lord, said the Survayor, I pray you what shall wee doe with the earth which we digge out of the said pit? Why, thou Coxcombe, said the Cardinall, canst thou not dig the pit deepe enough, and bury all together?

[77.] At _Salisbury_, _Tarlton_ & his fellowes were to play before the Maior & his brethren: but one of his company (a yong man) was so drunke, that he could not; whereat _Tarlton_, as mad angry, as he was mad drunke, claps me on his legs a huge pair of bolts.[F. 140] The fellow dead asleepe, felt nothing. When all was done, they convayed him to the Jayle on a Man's back, and intreated the Jailer to doe God good service, and let him lye there til he waked. While they were about their sport, the felow waked, & finding himselfe in durance, & the Jaile hung round with bolts and shackles, he began to blesse himselfe, & thought sure in his drunkennesse hee had done some mischiefe. With this hee called to know, but none came to him; then hee thought verily his fault was capitall, and that hee was close prisoner. By and by comes the Keeper, and mooved him, that one so yong should come to so shamefull a death as hanging. Anon, another comes, and another with the like, which further put him in a puzzle. But at last comes _Tarlton_ and others, intreating the Keeper, yet if it might bee, that they might see their fellow ere they went. But hee very hardly was intreated. But at length the poore drunken Signior cald out for them. In they come. Oh _Tom_, saies _Tarlton_, hard was thy hap, in drunkennes to murder this honest man, and our hard hap too, to have it reported, any of our company is hang'd for it. O God, O God saies the fellow, is my fault so great? then commend me to all my friends. Well, short tale to make, the fellow forswore drunkennes, if hee could escape, and by as cunning a wile (to his thinking) they got him out of prison by an escape, and sent him to London before, who was not a little glad to be gone. But see how this iest wrought: by little and little the fellow left his excessive drinking, and in time altered his desire of drunkennes.

[Footnote 140: Shackles or fetters.]

A Barber left handed [12.]
Trim'd so well, that he bandy'd[F. 141]
With all the Barbers in the _Strand_,
For he trims dextrously;[F. 142]
But that I deny,
'Cause he does it with his left hand.

[Footnote 141: Was at feud. _Minsheu_ gives its meaning "to
join in a faction" and its equivalent in French as "bander,"
"mutiner." _Fleming_ translates "bander" "to rise--to band
against one."]

[Footnote 142: Dexter, _Lat._, right hand.]

[17.] _John_ came to _Thomas_ his house to speak with him: but _Thomas_ came to the door, and bid his Maid say he was not at home, which _John_ overheard; Two or three days after, _Thomas_ came to speak with _John_, and _John_ looks out a window, and told him he was not at home: Why do you say so? do I not see you at home? Hey day, says _John_, I believed your Maid you were not at home and you will not believe me my own self.

[78.] One said a tooth drawer was a kind of unconscionable trade because his trade was nothing else but to take away those things whereby every man gets his living.

[61.] There was a Gentleman who had been very smartly drinking at the Feathers Tavern in _Cheapside_, where there is a very long entry from the street door to the Bar, and a drinking roome by the way where were many civill persons with their wives at supper, but their door was only shut to and not latched; and this Gentleman staggering thorough, reeld against this door, and fell head long into the Room, to the sudden astonishment of the Company, who rise up and demanded the reason of that rudenesse; the poor Gentleman with very much adoe got up, and staggering with his hat in his hand he made hard shift to cry them all mercy in these words, Gentlemen and Ladyes, I pray excuse my boldnesse, and consider I am not the first that have fallen into ill Company.

The following throws much light on the habits of people in the reign of Charles II., and is valuable as it shows a phase of life not often depicted.

[85.] _A Lampoon on the_ Greenwich _Strowlers_.

Oh! assist me you Powers, who have Rhimes at command,
For I faith I've a weighty business in hand.
Of the late _Greenwich_ Strowlers I'me now going to sing,
But all things in order--first, God save the King.

Hem; hem; now put we off to the matter,
On _Easter_ Sunday, the Raskals took water;
Where landing at _Greenwich_, they agreed that a share
Should be settled o' th' Sculler, instead of his fare.

Then up they march'd to the sign of the Bull,
Where asking for Lodging, quoth the folks we are ful.
But we'el see for some for you, and so with that wheadle,
Ud's lid, exit's the Landlord, and enter the Beadle.

With that their Chief Actor begins for to bristle,
Quoth he, p'shaw waw, let the Beadle go whistle,
For I can; and he did, too, produce straight a Pattent,
That had the King's Hand and Seal, and all that in't.

Well this rub of fortune is over; but stay,
They call for a Reckning, theres six Pence to pay.
Now mark how damn'd fortune these Strowlers do's cozen,
They pawn all their stock to pay the half dozen.

But promising th' Host that he should Tricket free,
See their Plays every day, and his whole family.
He releases 'em straight, and now all the rabble
Marcht up to go lye in their Play house,--a Stable.

* * * * *

* * * * *

I confess they had never a Scene at all,
They wanted no copy, they had th' original.
For the Windowes being down, and most part of the roof,
How could they want Scenes when they had prospect enough.

Now we will suppose that _Munday_ is come,
And the Play is proclaymed by beat of a Drum.
Faith, now you're supposing, let it be _Tuesday_ morn,
For of _Monday_, I know no more than the child unborn.

It's said that they Acted not upon _Monday_,
Something was wanting, and so they lost one day.
They send unto _London_, what's lacking is gotten,
And so on the next day, w'ye all things did cotten.

The Prizes they took, were a Londoners groat,
A Gentleman's size,[F. 143] but his skipkennel's[F. 144] pot.
The Townsmen they let in for drink and good chear,
The School boys for peace, and the Seamen for fear.

On _Tuesday_ at three a clock I was we'e 'em,
I kist their doorkeeper, and went in to see 'em.
Being enter'd an Actor[F. 145] straight brought me a stool,
Hee'd a held my cloak too, but I wa'nt such a fool.

The first that appear'd, when I was come in,
With her train to her ankles, was who but the Queen.
She civilly made me a curtsy and straight,
Retired to sit on her Fagots of state.

Then in came the King with a Murtherous mind,
Gainst his new married Queen, which when I did find,
I call'd him a side, and whispering in's Ear,
Desired him to fetch me a Flagon of Bear.

There's twelve pence, said I, take the rest for your pains,
Your Servant said he, Sir, sweet Mr _Haines_.
His Majesty, faith, I must needs say was civil,
For he took up his Heels, and ran for't like a Devil.

Meantime I addrest myself to his Bride,
And took her unto the tireing House side;
A hay loft it was which at a dead lift,
Instead of a better serv'd then for a shift.

But mark the Fate of her Civility,
The Players did rant both at her and me:
And therefore because for fear she'd be lack'd
I ordred the Drummer to beat a long Act.

He beat and he beat, but no Queen appear'd,
He beat till at length the house was all clear'd:
By my Troath a sad loss, but to make 'em amends,
I threw 'em a Crown, and we were all Friends:
And so this Renowned History ends.

[Footnote 143: Sixpence--the 6 on dice being called "size."]

[Footnote 144: Footman or footboy.]

[Footnote 145: This is an allusion to the custom of the
gallants sitting on stools on the stage, so frequently spoken
of by the dramatists of the sixteenth century. Indeed Queen
Anne found it necessary to issue two proclamations forbidding
people other than actors to go on the stage.]

[52.] A Gentleman upon a time having a man that could write and read well, rebuked him one day for idlenesse, saying, If I had nothing to do, like thee, I would to recreate my wit, set down all the fooles I knew. The fellow, making little answer, tooke his pen and inke, and as his Master had wished him, fell to setting down a Catalogue of the fooles that he was well acquainted with: among whom, and first of all, he set down his Master, who, reading his name, would needs know the nature of his folly; Marry, quoth he, In lending your Cozen twenty pound this other day: for I think he will never pay you. Yea but (quoth his Master) what if he do pay me? Then (quoth his man) I will put out your name, and put down his for a foole.

[20.] A Gentleman in _North Wales_ was standing in a Sunshiny day, upon a high rock near the Sea-Side in those parts; and as he was looking about, he saw an Island some Four miles from the shore or there abouts, upon which Island he spy'd two Hares playing one with another: Well, says he, are you got over there now; for I am sure I cours'd you both yesterday with my two Greyhounds, and then you shew'd me a trick, but now I'll shew you one. So he went immediately home, and fetch't his two Greyhounds, and a great Morter piece which he had of a Thousand pound weight, which he fastened between the two Dogs Necks; but he was forced to fasten a Cord to it also, lest the Dogs might run away with it; and when they had carry'd it to the Rock aforesaid, he charg'd the Morter piece, and presently the two Greyhounds slipt into it (for it seems they had been used to it) which two Greyhounds he ram'd in very well, and then discharg'd the Morter piece with no hurt at all to the Greyhounds (for you must know he shot with white Powder) and it so happened that says he, I protest t'ye Gentlemen (upon my honest word and Credit 'tis true) that the two Greyhounds each lighted upon a Hare as they were playing, and then kill'd 'em and immediately left the Island, and swam through the Sea with the Hares in their mouths, which were one boil'd and t'other roasted for my dinner. One ask't him what colour his Greyhounds were? He swore they were both black before, but the White Powder did so Change their Colour, that they were both turn'd grey; and so from them all of their kind were called Grey hounds, for their sakes to this day. They told him they thought this probable enough to be improbable. O Gentlemen, says he far be it from me to tell you a lie, for if you won't believe me, pray ask my Dogs.

_Upon Thorough-good, an unthrift._

Thy Sirname _Thorough-good_ befitteth thee, [5.]
Thou _Thorough-good_, and good goes thorough thee,
Nor thou in good, nor good in thee doth stay,
Both of you thorough goe, and pass away.

[77.] _Tarlton_ having been domineering[F. 146] very late one night, with two of his friends, and comming homewards along Cheapeside, the Watch being then set, Master Constable asked, Who goes there? Three merry men, quoth _Tarlton_. That is not sufficient, What are you? quod M. Constable. Why, saies _Tarlton_, one of us is an eye maker, and the other a light maker. What saiest thou, knave, doest mocke me? the one is an eye maker, the other a light maker, which two properties belong unto God onely: commit these blasphemers, quoth the Constable. Nay, I pray you, good M. Constable, be good in your Office, I will approve what I have said to be true, qd. _Tarlton_. If thou canst, saies the Constable, you shall passe, otherwise you shall be all three punished. Why (qd. _Tarlton_) this fellow is an eye maker, because a Spectacle maker, and this other a maker of light, because a Chandler, that makes your darkest night as light as your Lanthorn. The Constable, seeing them so pleasant, was well contented. The rest of the Watchmen laughed: & Tarlton with his two Companions went home quietly.

[Footnote 146: Roystering.]

[78.] One perswaded his friend to marry a little woman because of evils the least was to be chosen.

[26.] A crafty Fellow being extremely in debt, and being threatened by his Creditors, that they would have him, if he was above ground, got himself into a Cellar, and there lay with the Tapster; and being reproved for so doing, he told them there's no fear of catching him there, because 'twas underground, and they durst not break their Oaths, because they swore they would have him above Ground.

THE

UNFORTUNATE FENCER;[F. 147]

or

_The Couragious Farmer of_ Gloucester-shire

shewing

How this huffing Spark went down into those Parts, Challenging any one at all sorts of Weapons; and at length (was) shamefully Conquer'd by a Country Farmer.

To the Tune of _The Spinning Wheel_.

Licensed according to Order.

You that delight in merriment, [88.]
be pleased attend a while,
I hope to give you all content,
this very Song will make you smile;
'Tis of a Fencer brave and bold,
adorn'd with rich embroider'd Gold.

This Spark in pomp, and rich array,
from _London_ rid with right good will,
That he young Lords might learn to play
all sorts of Weapons by his skill;
And whereso e'er this Fencer came,
the drum, and trumpet blaz'd his fame.

This huffing Fencer, fierce and Stout,
to _Gloucester_ City did repair,
And for a Sign he then hung out
a Sword of grand Defiance there;
The which a Farmer did espy,
as he by Chance was passing by.

The jolly Farmer brisk and bold,
as soon as he the Sword beheld,
He cry'd what is there to be sold?
what! is your Room with Rapiers fill'd?
The Valiant Fencer did reply
I come my Valour here to try.

With that he did his Rapier shake,
and said let who will here arrive,
I do a noble Challenge make,
to fight the stoutest man alive:
The Farmer said I'll answer thee,
if that you dare to Cope with me.

The Fencer cry'd, you sorry knave,
here by this Rapier in my hand,
I'll send the to thy silent Grave,
against my force no Clown can stand;
It shall be try'd the Farmer cry'd,
I value not your huffing Pride.

Next Morning they a Stage prepare,
the drums did beat and trumpets sound,
Right joyfull tydings to declare,
this Gallant trac'd the City round,
Dress'd in his Shirt of Holland fine,
with Sword that did like Silver shine.

The Stage he mounted brisk and gay,
and eke the Farmer straight likewise;
To whom the Huffing Spark did say,
of you I'll make a Sacrifice;
This work in short I will compleat,
you should have brought a Winding Sheet.

No more of that, but let's fall to,
I hope to make my Party good;
And e'er this World I bid adieux,
who knows but I may let you blood;
With that he cut him o'er the Face,
and thus began the Spark's Disgrace.

But when they came to Quarter Staff,
the Farmer bang'd the Spark about;
Which made all the Spectators laugh,
and with Huzzas they all did shout;
He made his Head and Shoulders sore,
he ne'er had been so thrash'd before.

Thus fairly did he win the day,
which put the Fencer in a Rage,
Who through the Crowd did sneak away,
while the stout Farmer kept the Stage;
Huzzas of joy did echo round,
while he with Victory was Crown'd.

FINIS.

Printed for P. Brooksby,[F. 148] J. Deacon,[F. 149] J. Blare,[F. 150] J. Back.[F. 151]

[Footnote 147: For tune, see Appendix.]

[Footnote 148: Philip Brooksby had two shops,--one, the Golden
Ball, near Bear Tavern, in West Smithfield; the other, Harp
and Ball, also Golden Ball, in Pye Corner.]

[Footnote 149: J. Deacon lived at the Rainbow, near David's
Inn, or St. Andrew's Church, Holborn.]

[Footnote 150: Josiah Blare's shop was the Looking Glass, on
London Bridge.]

[Footnote 151: John Back also lived on London Bridge, at the
sign of the Black Boy.]

[86.] King _James_ with some of his Nobles having lost their way in a _Forest_ in the persuit of a Deer, came at last a hungry to the side of the same _Forest_ where they espied a little House; thither hyed the King, and demanded first what victuals in the House, then with some comfortable leysure the way; the good wife sets before the King a good piece of powdered[F. 152] Beefe and a bag pudding, the King and his Followers fell to eat heartily, & having contented his _hostess_ rid away: by the road side at some distance, a boy presents himself scraping with his legs, bare headed, whereon was a thick scald: Sirrah, said the Lords, cover your head, have you never a Cap? where do you dwell? In yonder Cottage an't please you (pointing to the place where the King dined) I had a Cap yesterday, but to day my mother made use of it for a pudding bag; Quoth the King, it did me no harme in the eating, it shall do me lesse in thinking of it; come, put on, and let us jog it down; but it stirred the stomacks of his Traine.

[Footnote 152: Salted.]

[17.] One _Pace_ a bitter Jester in Queen _Elizabeth's_ daies, came to Court: Come says the Ladies, _Pace_, we shall now hear of our faults: No, says he, I don't use to talk of that which all the Towne talks of.

One saw an Old Woman, [12.]
Which indeed is Common,
With her nose to meet with her chin;
'Tis strange, says he, me-thinks,
For when that she drinks
The De'el a drop can she get in.

He was then told the cause,
And what the reason was
That her teeth were fell out, and her chin
And Nose, like loving Neighbours,
Think well of their Labours,
To reconcile 'em agen.

[52.] A Worshipfull Gentleman in London, having on a time invited divers of his friends to supper to his house, and being at supper, the second course comming in, the first was one of the Gentleman's own men, bringing a Capon; and by chance, stumbling at the portall door, the Capon flew out of the platter and ranne along the board to the upper end of the table where the Master of the house sate, who making a jest of it, said, By my faith it is well, the Capon is come first, my man will come anon too, I hope. By and by came his man, and takes up the Capon, and layes it in the platter, and sets it on the board. I thank you Sir, quoth his Master, I could have done so my self. I, quoth his man, it is an easie matter, sir, for one to do a thing when he sees it done before his face.

[17.] Some Tylers working on the top of the house, one by chance dropt down through the rafters; Says one, I like such a Fellow dearly, for he is one that goes through his work.

[26.] Another swore, that he in his Travels round about the World, which he had encompast Three times and half in Seven years time, but could not finish the other half, because he fell very Sick, and so was forc't to return back agen; and in his return, he came to a King's Court, but I cannot for my life remember the place, because I have been in so many; and there, says he, I saw a Lute of a very great bigness, and Thirty Ells long, bating only three inches, and Three broad, and swore that the least string upon it was bigger than his Thumb. Then they askt him how it possibly could be plaid on? He told them that a Man and his Wife that were Gyants (of which there's abundance in that Country) had Two large Iron Bows, made each with Eight Feet like Gridirons, with which he, and his dear Consort (which I think is the best name for her now, in regard of that Musick) scrat ore the strings; that is, she on the Treble part, and He on the Bass, whilst Eight great Mastiff Dogs ran up and down the Frets of the Lute, with their bare feet, and stopt directly in Tune as they plaid; (but you must conceive that these dogs were bred up to't, or else 'twere a thing impossible) to the admiration of all strangers that were there; and the Case of that Lute served for a kennel for the Eight Dogs to lie in: but it seems 'tis common with them there, for they made nothing of it; and this he made good by whole Volleys of thundering Oaths.

[5.] A fat house keeper makes leane Executors. The Devill is not alwaies at one doore. He puls with a long rope, that waights for anothers death.

Come buy this new Ballad, before you doe goe;
If you raile at the Author, I know what I know.

To the Tune of, _Ile tell you but so_.

It is an old saying [89.]
that few words are best,
And he that sayes little,
shall live most at rest:
And I by experience
doe finde it right so,
Therefore Ile spare speech,
but I know what I know.

Yet shall you perceive well,
though little I say,
That many enormities
I will display:
You may guesse my meaning
by that which I show,
I will not tell all
but I know &c.

There be some great climbers
compos'd of ambition,
To whom better-born men
doe bend with submission:
Proud Lucifer climbing
was cast very low,
Ile not stay these men.
but I know &c.

There be many Foxes
that goe on two legges,
They steale greater matters
than Cocks, Hens and Egges;
To catch many Guls
in Sheepes cloathing they goe
They might be destroy'd
but I know &c.

There be many men
that Devotion pretend,
And make us beleeve
that true Faith theyle defend:
Three times in one day
to Church they will goe,
They cozen the world,
but I know &c.

There be many rich men
both Yeomen and Gentry,
That for their owne private gaine
hurt a whole Countrey:
By closing free Commons,
yet they'le make as though
Twere for common good,
but I know &c.

There be divers Papists
that to save their Fine,
Come to Church once a moneth
to heare Service Divine:
The Pope gives them power,
as they say, to doe so
They save money by't too
but I know &c.

There be many Upstarts
that spring from the Cart,
Who gotten to th' Court
play the Gentleman's part:
Their fathers were plaine men,
they scorne to be so,
They think themselves brave
but I know &c.

There be many Officers
men of great place,
To whom, if one sue
for their favour and grace,
He must bribe their servants
while they make as though
They know no such thing,
but I know &c.

There be many Women
that seem very pure,
A kisse from a stranger
they'le hardly endure:
They are like Lucretia,
modest in show.
I will accuse none,
but I know &c.

Likewise there be many
dissembling men,
That seeme to hate Drinking
and Women, yet when
They meet with a Wench
to the Taverne they'le goe,
They are civill all day
but I know &c.

There be many Batchelors
that to beguile
Beleeving kind Lasses,
use many a wile,
They all sweare that they love,
when they meane nothing so,
And boast of these tricks
but I know &c.

There's many an Usurer,
that like a Drone,
Doth idly live
upon his moneys Lone:
From Tens unto Hundreds
his money doth grow,
He sayes he doth good,
but I know &c.

There be many Gallants
that goe in gay Rayment,
For which the Taylor
did never receive payment;
They ruffle it out
with a gorgeous show,
Some take them for Knights,
but I know &c.

There be many Rorers
that swagger and rore,
As though they in the warres had been,
seven yeeres or more:
And yet they never lookt
in the face of a Foe;
They seeme gallant Sparkes
but I know &c.

There's many both Women
and Men that appeare
With beautifull Outsides
the Worlds eyes to bleare:
But all is not Gold
that doth glister in show,
They are fine with a Pox,
but I know &c.

There's many rich Trades-men
who live by Deceit,
And in Weight and Measure
the poore they doe cheat,
They'le not sweare an Oath
but indeed, I, and No,
They truly protest,
but I know &c.

There be many people
so given to strife,
That they'le goe to Law
for a two-penny Knife,
The Lawyers ne're aske them
why they doe so,
He gets by their hate,
but I know &c.

I know there be many
will carpe at this Ballet,
Because it is like
sowre Sawce to their Pallet;
But he, shee, or they,
let me tell ere I goe,
If they speak against this Song
I know what I know.

FINIS.

Printed by the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke.[F. 153]

[Footnote 153: Published in 1620, and assigned his patent the
same year. He is also heard again of in 1642, when his patent
was petitioned against, but unsuccessfully.]

[82.] A Proper Gentlewoman went to speak with a rich Mizer that had more Gowt than good manners, at her taking leave hee requested her to tast a Cup of Canara: Shee (contrary to his expectation) tooke him at his word and thanked him. Hee commanded _Jeffrey Starveling_ his man, to wash a glasse, and fill it to the Gentlewoman. Honest _Jeffrey_ fill'd a great glasse about the bignesse of two Taylors thimbles, and gave it to his master, who kist it to save cost, and gave it to the Gentlewoman, saying that it was good Canara of six yeeres old at the least, to whom shee answered (seeing the quantity so small,) Sir, as you requested me, I have tasted your wine, but I wonder that it should be so little, being of such a great age.

[61.] There were two notable boon Companions which when they were met were alwayes so indeared to each others Company that very seldom an earlier houre than midnight could part them, but when they were drunk they had two troublesome infirmities, _Jack_ could not goe nor _Will_ could not speak; therefore one night before they fell to drinking, they made Articles of Agreement that when they were drunke _Will_ should carry _Jack_, and _Jack_ should speak for _Will_, and after this agreement to drinking they went pell-mell, untill the one was drunk, and the other lame: So after they had paid the Reckoning, _Will_ takes up _Jack_ a pick-pack and carries him to _Ludgate_, and being very weary sets him down in the dark close by the prison. The Constable and Watch who were within the Gate hearing a bustle, called out, saying, Who goes there? Come before the Constable. _Will_ could goe well enough, but could not speak, so he went over to the Constable, who examined him whence he came, and why he was out so late, and where he lived; to which _Will_ could answer nothing, but make mouths: but _Jack_ having his tongue at liberty, as he was sitting in the blind hole, cryes to the Constable, Sir, he cannot speak. Upon that the Constable asked who was that which spake, and commanded him to come before him; to which _Jack_ made answer, Sir, I can't goe, at which the Constable and Watch laught; _Will_ took up his load again and away they marcht.

_To his Quill._

Thou hast been wanton, therefore it is meet, [5.]
Thou shouldst do penance--do it in a sheet.

[128.] Caricature of different religious sects. 1646.

[78.] One said Physitians had the best of it, for, if they did well, the world did proclaime it, if ill, the earth did cover it.

[77.] Upon a time, as _Tarlton_ and his Wife (as passengers) came sailing from Southampton towards London, a mighty storme arose, and endangered the Ship, whereupon, the Captaine thereof charged every man to throw into the Sea the heaviest thing he could best spare, to the end to lighten somewhat the Ship. _Tarlton_, that had his Wife there, offered to throw her over-boord: but the company rescued her; and being asked wherefore he meant so to doe? he answerd, She is the heaviest thing I have, and I can best spare her.

[4.] A _Welshman_ that was condemned to be hanged, had the benefit[F. 154] of Clergy granted to him, and so was burnt in the Hand; which when it was doing, they bid him say. God bless the King. Nay, says he, God bless hur Father and Mother; for if they had not taught hur to read, hur might have been hanged for all the King.

[Footnote 154: This plea was put in for mitigation of
punishment, the person presumably being a clerk or learned
person, exemplified by his being able to read, the punishment
then being commuted to burning on the hand. In later days
it became a farce, as a bribe would have the effect of being
apparently branded with only a warm or cold iron.]

[4.] One asking a certain Person how his friend came off at the Sessions House? he told him he was to be Burnt in the Hand; Pish, says the other, that's a small matter; for, for a little Fee, the'll Burn him in the Hand with a cold Iron.

Marriage as old men note, hath likened bin [5.]
Unto a publique feast, or common route,
Where those that are without, would fain get in,
And those that are within would faine get out.

[26.] A Gentleman that had a great Wit, and well belov'd among the great ones, and therefore invited often amongst them; but it seems had a very sore Leg; he, being at a Noble mans Table, greedily cat'd at a Goblet of Wine. Says my Lord to him, Prithee _Jack_ drink it not, for 'twill hurt thy Leg. O my Lord, says he, take no care for my Leg, for I have care enough of that, for I always drink o' the t' other side.

The Cruell Shrow:[F. 155]

or

The Patient Mans Woe

Declaring the misery, and the great paine
By his unquiet wife he doth dayly sustaine.

To the Tune of _Cuckolds all arowe_.

Come Batchelors and Married Men, [90.]
and listen to my Song;
And I will shew you plainely then,
the injury and wrong
That constantly I doe sustaine,
by the unhappy life,
The which does put me to great paine,
by my unquiet Wife.

Shee never linnes[F. 156] her bauling,
her tongue it so loud,
But alwaies shee'l be railing,
and will not be contrould;
For she the Briches still will weare,
although it breedes my strife,
If I were now a Batchelor,
I'de never have a Wife.

Sometime I goe i' th' morning
about my dayly worke,
My wife she will be snorting,
and in her bed she'le lurke;
Untill the Chimes doe goe at Eight,
then she'le begin to wake,
Her mornings draught well spiced straight,
to cleare her eyes she'le take.

As soon as shee is out of bed,
her Looking Glass she takes,
So vainely is she dayly led,
her mornings worke she makes;
In putting on her brave atyre,
that fine and costly be,
Whilst I worke hard in durt and mire,
alacke what remedy.

Then she goes forth a Gossiping,
amongst her own Comrades,
And then she falls a bowsing[F. 157]
with her merry blades:
When I come from my labour hard,
then shee'le begin to scould,
And calls me Rogue without regard,
which makes my heart full cold.

When I for quietnesse sake desire,
my wife for to be still;
She will not grant what I require,
but sweares shee'le have her will;
Then if I chance to heave my hand,
straightway she'le murder cry;
Then judge all Men that here do stand
in what a Case am I.

And if a Friend by chance me call,
to drinke a pot of Beere;
Then she'le begin to curse and brall,
and fight and scratch and teare:
And sweares unto my worke she'le send
me straight without delay,
Or else with the same Cudgels end,
shee will me soundly pay.

And if I chance to sit at meate
upon some holy day,
She is so sullen she will not eate,
but vexe me ever and aye:
She'le pout, and loure, and curse and bann,
this is the weary life,
That I do leade, poore harmlesse man,
with my most dogged wife.

Then is not this a pitteous Cause,
let all men now it trie,
And give their verdits by the Lawes,
betweene my wife and I:
And judge the Cause who is to blame,
Ile to their Judgement stand,
And be contented with the same
and put thereto my hand.

If I abroad goe any where,
my businesse for to doe,
Then will my Wife anone be there,
for to encrease my woe;
Straightway she such a noise will make,
with her most wicked tongue,
That all her Mates her part to take,
about me soon will thronge.

Thus am I now tormented still,
with my most wicked Wife,
All through her wicked tongue so ill
I am weary of my life:
I know not truely what to doe,
nor how myselfe to mend:
This lingring life doth breede my woe,
I would 'twere at an ende.

O that some harmlesse honest man,
whom Death did so befriend,
To take his Wife from of his hand,
his sorrowes for to end:
Would change with me to rid my care,
and take my Wife alive,
For his dead Wife unto his share,
then I would hope to thrive.

But so it likely will not be,
that is the worst of all,
For to encrease my dayly woe
and for to breed my fall:
My wife is still most froward bent,
such is my lucklesse fate,
There is no man will be content,
with my unhappy state.

Thus to conclude and made an ende
of these my Verses rude,
I pray all wives for to amende,
and with peace to be endude:
Take warning all men by the life
that I sustained long,
Be carefull how you chuse a Wife,
and so Ile ende my Song.

FINIS.

_Arthur Halliarg._[F. 158]

London. Printed by _M. P._ for _Henry Gosson_[F. 159] on London Bridge neere the Gate.

[Footnote 155: For tune, see Appendix.]

[Footnote 156: Ceases, or leaves off.]

[Footnote 157: Drinking.]

[Footnote 158: This ballad is supposed to be unique, and
is the only known work of Halliarg, who is not mentioned by
Hazlitt.]

[Footnote 159: The date of this ballad in the Museum Catalogue
is 1610 (?).]

[91.] A Bishop on a time examining one that sought to be admitted into the ministery, asked him how many Sacraments there were; to which question, he, after long pause, answered there were 9; Nine, quoth he, how prove you that? Why, quoth hee, there are 7 beyond sea, and two in _England_; at which the B. laughing at his ignorance, yet grieved for his folly, sent him away as worthily frustrate of his expectation.

[4.] A Man being ask'd whether his friend _Tom_, that was lately dead, had left him any Legacy? No, faith, says he, Not a Tester to drink his health.

[26.] In the Wars in _Germany_, between the _Swedes_ and them, there was so great a Frost one Winter, that Two Men desiring to talk with one another, and one was on one side of the River, and t'other on the other, and as they spoke one to another, the Frost was so great, that it froze[F. 160] up their words, which was not audible then, nor indeed (upon my reputation) could not be heard till Nine days after, when it chanc'd to thaw: which one of the company hearing said 'twas a brave Country to speak Treason in; for whatsoever a Man said, a Man could not be heard; Nay, the very lowings of the Bulls and Cows were froz'n up also, that the owners had much ado to find them to fodder them, for want of hearing them as formerly. Nay, by your favour, says another, there is another Country, which had as great a Conveniency to speak Treason in as that had, from 1648 to 1660, and there one might speak any sort of Treason, and was never call'd to an account for it: Nay, the more Treason they spoke, they were the better esteem'd; so that there was no need of a frost at that time in _England_.

[Footnote 160: A somewhat similar story may be found
previously, in _Rabelais_, and some sixty years subsequently,
in _Baron Munchausen_.]

[52.] There was a notable drunkard of Rochester, whom his wife perswaded as much as in her lay, to leave that Sinne; but the more she spake the worse he was, and because she controuled him, he would all to beat her, So she let him alone; and because his use was still to stay out till almost midnight, she went to bed, and bad her Maid tary up for him, and make a good fire: and the maid did as her Mistresse commanded. One night when he came home the Maid let him in, and he stood by the fire and warmed himself; but his head being too heavy for his body, down he fell into the fire along. The Maid ranne crying, Oh Mistresse, Mistresse, my Master is falne into the fire. No Matter, Maid (quoth she) let him take his pleasure in his owne house, where he will himselfe.

A Gentleman not richest in discretion, [4.]
Was alwayes sending for his own phisition.
And on a time he needs would of him know,
What was the cause his pulse did go so slow?
Why (quoth the Doctor) thus it comes to passe,
Must needs go slow, which goes upon an asse.

[82.] An unhappy boy that kept his father's sheepe in the country, did use to carry a paire[F. 161] of Cards in his pocket, and meeting with boyes as good as himselfe would fall to Cards at the Cambrian game of whip-her-ginny,[F. 162] or English one and thirty; at which sport, hee would some dayes lose a sheepe or two: for which if his father corrected him, hee (in revenge) would drive the sheepe home at night over a narrow bridge, where some of them falling besides the bridge, were drowned in the swift brooke. The old man being wearied with his ungracious dealing, complained to a Justice, thinking to affright him from doing any more the like. In briefe, before the Justice the youth was brought, where (using small reverence, and lesse manners) the Justice said to him, Sirrah, you are a notable villaine, you play at Cards, and lose your father's sheepe at one and thirty. The Boy replied that it was a lye. A lye, quoth the Justice, you saucy knave, dost thou give me the lye? No, qd the boy, I gave thee not the lye, but you told me the lye, for I never lost sheepe at one and thirty; for when my game was one and thirty I alwayes wonne. Indeed, said the Justice thou saist true, but I have another accusation against thee, which is, that you drive your fathers sheepe over a narrow bridge where some of them are oftentimes drowned: That's a lye too, quoth the boy, for those that go over the bridge are well enough, it is onely those that fall beside which are drowned: Whereto the Justice said to the boys father, Old man, thou hast brought in two false accusations against thy sonne for he never lost sheepe at one and thirty, nor were there ever any drowned that went over the bridge.

[Footnote 161: A pack.]

[Footnote 162: The same author mentions this game again in
"Taylors Motto," as also many other games then in vogue, the
names of which are curious--

"The Prodigall's estate, like to a flux,
The Mercer, Draper, and the Silk man sucks;
The Taylor, Millainer, Dogs, Drabs and Dice,
Trey trip or Passage, or the Most at thrice;
At Irish, Tick tacke, Doublets, Draughts or Chesse,
He flings his money free with carelessnesse:
At Novum, Mumchance, mischance (chuse ye which)
At One and Thirty, or at Poore and rich,
Ruffe, flam, Trump, noddy, whisk, hole, Sant, New Cut,
Unto the keeping of foure Knaves he'l put
His whole estate at Loadum, or at Gleeke,
At Tickle me quickly, he's a merry Greeke,
At Primefisto, Post and payre, Primero,
Maw, Whip-her-ginny, he's a lib'rall _Hero_;
At My-sow-pigg'd: and (Reader never doubt ye,
He's skill'd in all games except) Looke about ye.
Bowles, shove-groate, tennis, no game comes amiss,
His purse a purse for any body is."
]

The

Unfortunate WELCH MAN

or

The Untimely Death of _Scotch_ Jockey.

If her will Fight, her cause to right,
as daring to presume
To Kill and Slay, then well her may
take this to be her Doom.

To the Tune of The _Country Farmer_.

This may be Printed _R.P._

Stout _Shonny-ap-Morgan_ to _London_ would ride, [92.]
To seek Cousen _Taffie_ whatever betide;
Her own Sisters Son, whom her loved so dear,
Her had not beheld him this many long year:
Betimes in the morning stout _Shonny_ arose,
And then on the Journey with Courage her goes,
A _Cossit_[F. 163] of Gray was the best of her Close,
Her Boots they were out at the heels and the toes.

A Sword by her side, and with _Bob_ the Gray Mare,
Her rid on the Road like a Champion so rare;
At last how it happened to her hard Lot,
To meet with young _Jockey_, a bonny brisk Scot;
Then _Jockey_ was jolly, and thus he did say,
Let's gang to the Tavern, drink wine by my fay,
Then _Shonny_ consented, and made no delay,
But _Jockey_ left _Shonny_ the Reckoning to pay.

While _Morgan_ was merry, and thinking no ill,
The _Scotchman_ he used the best of his skill;
Considering how he might scamper away,
For why Sir, he never intended to pay:
But like a false Loon he slipt out of door,
And never intended to come there no more,
Poor Shonny-ap-Morgan, was left for the Score,
Cotzo her was never so served before.

Her paying the Shot, then away her went,
The _Welch_ blood was up, and her mind was bent,
For speedy pursuing he then did prepare,
Then Morgan did mount upon _Bob_ the Gray Mare:
Then Whip and Spur stout _Shonny_ did ride,
And overtook _Jockey_ near to a Wood side,
And pull'd out her Sword in the height of her Pride,
And wounded poor _Jockey_ who presently dy'd.

Then _Shonny_ was taken and hurry'd to Jail,
Where her till the Sessions did weep and bewail;
And then at the last, by the Laws of the Land,
Was brought to the Bar to hold up her Hand;
O good her Lord Shudge poor _Shonny_ did cry,
Now Whip her, and send her to Wales her Country;
Or cut off a Leg, or an Arm, or an Eye,
For her is undone, if Condemned to dye.

But this would not do, poor _Shonny_ was cast,
And likewise received her sentence at last;
A Gentleman Robber just at the same time,
Received just Sentence then due for his Crime;
Then _Shonny-ap-Morgan_ her shed many tears,
Her heart was possessed with sorrow and fears,
The Gentleman Thief likewise hung down his ears,
For then he expected his antient Arrears.

The day being come, they must both bid adieu,
Forsaking the world and the rest of their Crew;
The Spark was attir'd so gallant and gay,
But _Shonny_ was poor, and in ragged array:
And when they came both to the Gibbet Tree,
The Gentleman gave to the Hangman a Fee,
And said, let this _Welch man_ Hang farther from me,
So vile and so ragged a Rascal is he.

The Welch-man he heard him, and was in a rage,
That nothing almost, could his anger asswage;
But fretting and chaffing, he thus did begin,
Her will make her to know that her came of good kin;
Besides her will tell her her hearty belief,
That her is no more than a Gentleman Thief,
That robbed on the Roads, and the Plain and the Heath,
Her now will Hang by her in spight of her teeth.

FINIS.

Printed for _J. Deacon_ at the _Angel_ in Guiltspur Street.

[Footnote 163: ? Corset.]

[82.] A Country fellow (that had not walked much in streets that were paved) came to _London_, where a dog came suddenly out of a house, and furiously ran at him: the fellow stooped to take up a stone to cast at the Dog, and finding them all fast rammed, or paved in the ground; quoth hee, what strange Country am I in? where the people tye up the stones, and let the dogs loose.