his ears With an old pair of boots drawn on without hose Stuft full of old linnen rags and broken out at toes It was c. VVith an old pasport that never was read VVhich in his great old travels had stood him in good stead VVith an old Quean to lie by his side VVhich in her time had been oldly Frenchified It was the Queens c. VVith an old shirt that is grown to wrack That with long-wearing it serves stinking old Jack VVith an old grown lowse with a black-list on his back That was able to carry an old pedler and his pack It was the Queens c. VVith an old snap-sack made of a good calves skin VVith an old Leathern skrip tyed fast with an old cloak-bag string VVith an old Cap with a hole i' th' Crown One side pind up and the other hanging down It was c. VVith an old greasie bufft Jerkin pointed down before That his old great grandfather at the siege at Bullin had wore VVith an old pair of breeches with a patch upon each knee VVith two over-worn old pockets that will hold no money It was the Queens c. VVith an old horse late come from St. Albons VVith I know not how many diseases most grievous ones VVith an old pair of rusty Iron spurs VVith an old beat-begger in his hand to keep off the Curs It was c. This souldier would ride post to Bohemia to his foes And swore by his valour e're he came again would get better cloaths Or else he would lose both fingers hands and toes But when he takes this journey there 's no man living knows It was c. Another IN Lancashire where I was born And many a Cuckold bred I had not been marryed a quarter of a year But the hornes grew out of my head With hey the Io bent with hey the toe bent Sir Percy is under the Line God save the good Earl of Shrewsbury For he is a good friend of mine Doncaster Mayor he sits in a chair His mills they merrily go His nose doth shine with drinking of wine The Gout is in his great toe He that will fish for a Lancashire lasse At any time or tyde Must bait his hook with a good egge pie And an apple with a red-side He that gallops his horse on Bletstone edge By chance may catch a fall My Lord Mount Eagles Bears be dead His Jack-an-Apes and all At Scripton in Craven there 's never a haven Yet many a time foul weather He that will not lie a fair woman by I wish he were hang'd in leather My Lady hath lost her left leg hose So hath She done both her shoone Shee 'l earn her break-fast before she do rise Shee 'l lie in bed else till it be noon Ioan Moultons crosse it makes no force Though many a Cuckold go by Let many a man do all that he can Yet a Cuckold he shall die The good wife of the Swan hath a leg like a man Full well it becomes her hose She jets it apace with a very good grace But falleth back at the first close The Prior of Courtree made a great pudding-pie His Monkes cryed meat for a King If the Abbot of Chester do die before Easter Then Banbury Bells must Ring He that will a welch-man catch Must watch when the wind is in the South And put in a net a good piece of roast-cheese And hang it close to his mouth And Lancashire if thou be true As ever thou hast been Go sell thy old whittel and by thee a new fiddle And sing God save the Queen Towl the Bell. TOwl towl gentle Bell for a soul Killing care doth controul and my mind so oppress That I fear I shall die for a glance of that eye That so lately did fly like a Comet from the skie Or some great Deity But my wish is in vain I shall ne're see 't again When I in the Temple did spie This Divine Purity on her knees to her Saint Oh she look't so divine all her beauties did shine Far more fairer then her shrine faith I wish she had been mine Where my heart could resign And would powerfully prove no Religion like love Fair fair and as chast as the aire Holy Nuns breathing prayer was this Votress divine From each eye dropt a tear like the Pearles Violets were When the spring doth appear for to usher in the year But I dare safely swear Those teares trickle down for no sins of her own But now increaseth my woe I by no means must know where this beauty doth dwell All her rites being done to her Lady and her Son I was left all alone and my Saint was from me gone And to heaven she is flown Which makes me to say I shall scarce live a day Now I will make haste and die And ascend to the skie where I know shee 's inthron'd All ye Ladies adieu be your loves false or true I am going to view one that far transcends all you One that I never knew But must sigh out my breath for acquaintance in death The Answer to Towl RIng Ring merry Bells while we sing Drinking healths to our King And our minds are advanc't Le ts never fear to die till we have drunk out each eye But let cash and cares fly free as hail-stones from the skie Baccus great Deity Let us never wish in vain fill the pots George again When we in the Tavern do see Such fare boon Company On their knees drinking healths O we look most divine when our noses did shine Well ballast with good wine faith I wish the cup were mine VVhich to thee I 'le resign And will palpable prove by the drinking to thy Love Free free as the air let us be VVee 'l respect no degree But our births all a like From no eye drop a tear least you Maudlin appear And next morning do fear to be Physick't with small Beer VVhich I dare boldly swear If tears trickle down 't is our loves to the Crown Now we must make haste and see How much money will free All our hands from the bar For a time boyes adien I am going for to view VVhat belongs to all you be the reckoning false or true Though it be more then dew Yet my breath will I spend and my purse for my friend The jolly Shepherd THe life of a Shepherd is void of all care-a With his bag and his bottle he maketh good fare-a He rusâ—les he shusfles in all extreme wind-a His flocks sometimes before him and sometimes behind-a He hath the green medows to walk at his will-a With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon the green hill-a Trang-dille trang-dille trang down a down dilla With a pair of fine bag-pipes upon a green hill-a His sheep round about him do seed on the dale-a His bag full of cake-bread his boâ—tle of ale-a A cantle of cheese that is good and old-a Because that he walketh all day in the cold-a VVith his cloak
But goes and steales her from her Husband wherefore The Graecians took their tooles and fighted therefore And that you may perceive they were stout Signiors The Combat lasted for the space of ten years This Gallant bideing where full many a Mother Is oft bereav'd of Child Sister of Brother His Lady greatly longing for his presence Writ him a Letter whereof this the Sence My prety Duck my pigsnie my Ulysses Thy poor Penelope sends a thousand Kisses As to her only Ioy a hearty greeting Wishing thy company but not thy meeting With enemies and fiery spirits in Armour And which perchance may do thy body harme-or May take thee Prisoner and clap on thee bolts And locks upon thy legges such as weare Colts But send me word and er'e that thou want Ransome Being a man so comely and so handsome I l'e sell my Smock both from my back and belly E're you want mony meat or Cloathes I tell yee When that Ulysses all in greif enveloped Had markt how right this Letter was Peneloped Laid one hand on his heart and said 't was guilty Resting the other on his Dagger-hilty Thus gan to speak O thou that dost controule All beauties else thou hath so bang'd my soul With thy lamentation that I swear I love thee strangely without wit or fear I could have wish'd quoth he my self the Paper Ink Standish Sandbox or the burning Taper That were the Instruments of this thy writing Or else the stool whereon thou sat'st inditing And so might have bin neer that lovely breech That never yet was troubled with the Itch. And with the thought of that his Sorrow doubled His heart with wo was so Cuff'd and Cornubled That he approv'd one of his Ladyes Verses The which my Author in his book rehearses 'T is true quoth he Loves troubles make me tamer Res est Soliciti plena timoris Amor. This said he blam'd himself and chid his folly For being so ore-rul'd with mellancholly He call'd himself Fool Coxecombe Asse and Fop And many a scurvy name he reckon'd up But to himself this language was too rough For certainly the man had wit enough For he resolves to leave his Trojan foes And go to see his love in his best Cloaths But marke how he was cross'd in his intent His friends suspected him incontinent And some of them suppos'd he was in love Because his eyes all in his head did move Or more or less then used I know not which But I am sure they did not move so mich As they were wont to do and then 't was blasted Ulysses was in love and whilst that lasted No other newes within the Camp was spoke of And many did suppose the match was broke off But he conceal'd himself nor was or'e hasty To shift his Cloathes though now grown somewhat nasty But having wash'd his hands in Pewter Bason Determins for to get a Girle or a Son On fair Penelope for he look'd trimmer Then yong Leander when he learn'd his Primer To Graece he wends apace for all his hope Was only now to to see fair Penelope She kemb'd her head and wash'd her face in Creame And pinch'd her cheeks to make the red blood stream She don'd new Cloaths and sent the old ones packing And had her shoes rub'd over with Lamp blacking Her new rebato and a falling band And Rings with several posies on her hand A stomacher upon her breast so bare For Strips and Gorgets was not then the weare She thus adorn'd to meet her youthful Lover Heard by a Post-boy he was new come over She then prepares a banquet very neat Yet there was not bit of Butchers meat But Pyes and Capons Rabbits Larkes and Fruit Orion an a Dolphin with his Harp And in the midst of all these dishes stood A platter of Pease-porridge woundrous good And next to that the God of Love was plac'd His Image being made of Rye-past To make that good which the old Proverb speaks The one the Heart tother the belly breaks Ulysses seeing himself a welcome Guest Resolves to have some Fidlers at the Feast And 'mongst the various consort choosing them That in their sleeves the armes of Agamem Non in the next verse wore Cry'd in a rage Sing me some Song made in the Iron Age. The Iron-Age quoth he that used to sing This to my minde the Black-Smith's Song doth bring The Black-Smiths quoth Ulysses and there holloweth Whoope is there such a Song Let 's ha 't It followeth The Black-Smith As it was sung before Ulysses and Penelope at their Feast when he returned from their Trojan Warrs collected out of Homer Virgill and Ovid by some of the Modern Family of the Fancies OF all the trades that ever I see Ther 's none with the Blacksmith compar'd may be With so many several tooles works hee Which Nobody can deny The first that ever thunderbolt made Was a Cyclops of the Black Smiths trade As in a learned author is said Which Nobody can deny When thundringly we lay about The fire like lightening flasheth out Which suddainly with water wee d'out Which Nobody can deny The fayrest Goddess in the Skies To marry with Vulcan did devise Which was a Black-smith grave and wise Which no body can deny Mulciber to do her all right Did build her a town by day and by night Which afterwards he Hammersmith hight Which no body can deny And that no Enemy might wrong her He gave her Fort she need no stronger Then is the Lane of Ironmonger Which no body can deny Vulcan farther did acquaint her That a pretty Estate he would appoint her And leave her Seacoale-lane for a joynter Which nobody can deny Smithfeild he did free from dirt And he had sure great reason for 't It stood very neare to Venus Which nobody can deny But after in good time and ride It was to the Black Smiths rectified And given'm by Edmond Ironside Which nobody can deny At last he made a Net or traine In which the God of warre was t'ane Which ever since was call'd Pauls-chaine Which nobody can deny The common Proverb as it is read That we should hit the nayle o' the head Without the Black Smith cannot be said Which nobody can deny There is another must not be forgot Which falls unto the Black Smiths lot That we should strike while the I'rons hott Which nobody can deny A third lyes in the Black Smiths way When things are safe as old-wives say They hav'em under lock and key Which nobody can deny Another Proverb makes me laugh Because the Smith can challenge but half When things are as plain as a Pike staffe Which nobody can deny But'tother half to him does belong And therefore do the Smith no wrong When one is held to it hard buckle and thong Which nobody can deny Then there is a whole one proper and fit And the Blacksmith's Iustice is seen in it When you
my Creed To think that Lovers do as they pretend If all that say they dye had died indeed Sure long e're this the world had had an end 3. Besides we need not love unless we please No destiny can force mans disposition And how can any dye of that disease Whereof himself may be his own Physitian 4. Some one perhaps with long Consumption dry'd And after falling into love may dye But I dare pawn my life he nere had died Had he been half so sound at heart as I. 5. Another rather then incur the slander Oâ— true Apostate will false Martyr prove But I am neither Orpheus nor Leander He neither hang nor drown my self for love 6. Yet I have been a Lover by report And died for Love as many others do But thanks to Iove is was in such a sort That I reviv'd within an hour or two 7. Thus have I liv'd thus have I lov'd till now And know no reason to repent me yet And whosoever otherwise shall do His courage is as little as his wit A SONG 1. DEare Castodoris let me rise Aurora 'gins to jeer me And say that I do wantonize I prethee sweet lye neer me 2. Let Red Aurora blush my deare And Phoebus laughing follow Thou only art Aurora here Let me be thine Apollo 3. It is to envy at thy bliss That they do rise before us Is there such hurt in this or this Nay aye why Castadoris 4. What Arabella can one night Of wanton dalliance try you I could be ever if I might One hour let me desire you 5. Nay fie you hurt me let me go If you so roughly use me What can I say or think of you I prethee sweet excuse me 6. Thy Beauty and thy Love defend I should ungently move thee 'T is blisses sweet that I intend It is not I that love thee 7. I do confess it is but then Since you do so importune That I should once lie down agen Vouchsafe to draw the Curâ—aine 8. Aurora and Apollo too May visit silent fields By our consent they nere shall know What bliss our pleasure yeilds A North Countrey Song 1. WHen I'se came first to London Town I wor a Novice as other men are I thought the King had liv'd at the Crown And the way to'l Heaven had been through the Starre 2. I se set up my Horse and Ise went to Pouls Good Lord quo I what a Kirk been here Then Ise did sweare by all Kerson souls It wor a mile long or very near 3. It wor as high as any Hill A Hill quo I nay as a Mountaine Then went Ise up with a very good will But glad wor I to come down again 4. For as I went up my head roe round Then be it known to all Kerson people A man is no little way fro the ground When he 's o' th top of all Poles steeple 5. I se lay down my hot and Ise went to pray But wor not this a most pitious case Afore I had don it wor stolen away who 'd have thought theevs had been in that place 6. Now for my Hot Ise made great moan A stander by unto me said Thou didst not observe the Scripture aright For thou mun a watcht as well as a pray'd 7. Forth thence Ise went and I saw my Lord Major Good lack what a sight was there to see My Lord and his Horse were both of a haire I could not tell which the Mare should be 8. From thence to Westminster I went Where many a brave Lawyer I did see Some of them had a bad intent For there my purss was stolne from me 9. To see the Tombes was my desire I went with many brave fellowes store I gave them a penny that was their hire And he 's but a fool that will give any more 10. Then through the roomes the fellow me led Where all the sights were to be seen And snuffling told me through the nose What formerly the name of those had been 11. Here lyes quoth he Henry the third Thou ly'st like a knave he saies never a word And here lies Richard the second inter'd And here 's stands good King Edwards Sword 12. Under this Chair lyes Iacobs stone The very same stone lyes under the Chaire A very good jest had Iacob but one How got he so many Sons without a paire 13. I staid not there but down with the tide I made great hast and I went my way For I was to see the Lions beside And the Parris-garden all in a day 14. When Ise came there I was in a rage I rayl'd on him that kept the Beares Instead of a Stake was suffered a Stage And in Hunkes his house a crue of Players 15. Then through the Brigg to the Tower Ise went With much adoe Ise entred in And after a peny that I had spent One with a loud voice did thus begin 16. This Lion's the Kings and that is the Queens And this is the Princes that stands hereby With that I went neer to look in the Den. Cods body quoth he why come you so nigh 17. I se made great hast unto my Inne I supt and I went to bed betimes Ise slept and Ise dream't what I had seen And wak't again by Cheapside Chimes Several complexions SHall I woe thee lovely Molly She is fair fat fine and Jolly â—t she hath a trick of folly â—herefore I le have none of Molly â—o no no no no no I 'le have none of Molly â—o no no no no. â—hat say you to pritty Betty â—ave you seen a Lass more pretty â—ut her browes are alwaies swetty â—herefore I 'le have none of Betty no no. When I wooed the lovely Dolly â—hen she streight growes melancholly â— that wench is pestilent holy â—herefore I 'le have none of Dolly no no. When I kist my lovely Franckey â—he makes curchie and saies I thankey But her breath is to to rankey Therefore I 'le none of Frankey no no. â— commend brave minded Barby Shee 'l stand me strike or stabby But her wrists are alwaies Scabby Therefore I will have none of Barby no no. What say you to pretty Benny She thinks good silver is her penny For want of use she is senny Therefore I will have none of Benny no no. I could fancy pritty Nanny But she has the love of many And her self will not love any Therefore I will have none of Nanny no no. In a flax house I saw Rachel As she her flax and tow did hachel But her cheeks hunge like a Sachel Therefore I 'le have none of Rachel no no. When I met with lovely Nally I was bold with her to dally She lay down ere I said shally Therefore I 'l have none of Nally no no. O the Cherry lippes of Nelly They are smooth soft sweet as jelly But she has too big a belly Therefor I 'le have none of Nelly no no. Shall I court the lovely Siby For she can finely dance the fy by
me I loved her well and dellicate well I told her my mind as I might She bid me love where I would Hay hay and went away out of my sight I thought my Love had been as true to me As the grass that grows on the ground But now she proved the contrary She is as good lost as found I thought my Love had been a Virgin pure When to her my Love I betook She went with child by a Gentleman And married a greasy Cook But I doe beshrow her Cheekes and her chin And so do I beshrow her face Her cherry red Lipps with a hay hay And her flattering Tongue within And I doe beshrew her goodly gray eyes So do I her apparel and pride For now my land 's gon with a hay hay My love she looks all a one side And if I live another year As God may give me grace I 'le buy her a glass of decitfull water To wash her dissembling face A SONG in praise of noble Liquor COme hither zealous brothers And leave your disputation I will recount where is a fount That leads to mitigation The vertue of which Liquor Being taken with replation Will clear your eyes and make you wise And fill you with discretion And it is call old Sack old Sack â—is Phisick good and Diet To cure the man call'd Puritan And make him sleep in quiet No frantick strange opinion Doth from this Fountain bubble Nor Puritan that Scripture scan The Church and State to trouble â—rom Renish White and Claret This runs of generation Which fills the Realme with filthy fleame Of strife and alteration Then let them drink old Sack old Sack He is wiser then the fathers No counsel can command him He burnes with zeale the common weale No Cannon can withstand him His privie quese informes him All other men do wonder Fill him with drink and then I think He will recant the slaunder And let it be old Sack old Sack c. A Surples more affrights him That smells of superstition Then twenty Smocks or nether Stocks To tender his submission Besides his holy Sister He loves no female Creature But when he is drunk he will kiss a punke And tender his good nature And then let him drink old Sack old Sack His head no reason enters Nor he to be reclaimed His braines doth crack for want of Sack And thus his wits are maimed The only way to cure him If Sack will not collect him Must be the grate of Bishoppes gate Where mad Tom will expect him There let him drink old Sack old Sack To the tune of Pip my Cock ALas poor silly Barnaby how men do thee molest In City Town and Countrey they never let thee rest For let a man be merry at Even or at Morne They will say that he is Barnaby and laugh him for to scorn And call him drunken Barnaby when Barnaby is gone But can they not tend their drinking and let Barnaby alone You City Dames so dainty that are so neat and fine That every day drinks plenty of spice and Claret wine But you must have it burnt with â—ugar passing sweet They will not suffer Barnaby to walke a long the street But call him drunken Barnaby when Barnaby is gone Cannot you tend your Gosseping and let Barnaby alone You Clerks and Lawyers costly that are so fine nice When you do meet so costly with a cup of Ale and spice You will take your Chamber before you do begin Although you steale him privatly you count it is no sin Though Barnaby stands open in sight of every one What cannot you tend your drinking and let Barnaby alone But I have seen some Hostis that have taken a pott When her head runns giddy she 'l call for a double shott Although she gets her living by such kind of gests Shall mock scoffe and deride me as deeply as the rest But call me drunken Barnaby when all my money is gon But cannot you look to their mault man and let Barnaby alone A SONG THe Blazing Star is soon burn'd out The Diamond light abide The one in glory shines about The other yields light beside That spark if any should be mine That else hath been unknown But if to every he she shine I 'le rather lye alone The Glow-worme in the dark gives light And to the view of many The Moon she shews her self by night And yields her light to any But if my Love should seem to be To every one so known Shee never more shall shine to me I 'le rather lie alone I 'le not consume nor pine nor grieve As other Lovers do But such as beare a constant mind And will to me prove true I will set as little by any she As she by me hath done I will love where is constancy Or else I will love none A Willow Garland on my head I ever mean to wear I need no pillow to my bed I am clear void of care A single life is without strife And free from sighes and groanes Therefore I mean in longest night Ever to lie alone Once I lov'd the fairest love That e're my eyes did see But she to me unconstant prov'd And set no love by me And ever since my mind so tost I le lend no love to none Because I have been thus much crost I le ever lie alone A SONG BEgon begon my Willy my Billy Begon begon my dear The weather is warm T will do thee no harm Thou canst not be lodged here My Willy my Billy my Hony my conny My love my dove my dear Oh oh the wether is warm 'T will do thee no harm Oh oh thou canst not be lodged here Farewel farewel my Juggie my puggie Farewel farewel my dear Then will I be gone From whence that I came If I cannot be lodged here My Juggie my puggie my hony my cony My love my dove my dear Oh oh then will I begone From whence that I came Oh oh if I cannot be lodged here Return return my Willy my Billy Return my dove and my dear The wether doth change Then seem it not strange Thou canst not be lodged here My Willy my Billy my hony my cony My love my dove my dear Oh oh the wether doth change Then seem it not strange Oh and thou shalt be lodged here A SONG Sweet at night shall I come to your bed fie no You need not hazard your maidenhead why so Is not your will a law to restrain yes yes What should make you then to refrain pish pish Give me an answer grant my desire peace peace See see what harm it is thus to aspire cease cease Fire unkind why flide you away hey ho Cannot my love alure you to stay no no Soon my life will end if you part tush tush And this straite I 'le send to my heart push push Farwel cruel thus I die hold hold Hold me then with your reply be bold be bold Thus am I bold your armes to possess do do
And your lips I can do no less hun hun But my desire can linger no more alas alas Fear not t was nothing stirrd the door t was t was Thus by degrees I climb to aspire come come An houre of bliss oh ner'e to be spent ha done ha done A SONG of his Mistress MY mistriss is a Shuttle cok Compos'd of cock and feather Each battle doth play with her dock And bang her on the leather One cannot suffice her fill But she rebounds to the other still Fa la lanke down dilly My mistress is a Tennis ball Her leather so smooth and fine Shee 's often bang'd against the wall And banded under line But he that means to win her will Must hit her in the hazard still Fa la lanke down dilly My mistress is a Nightingal So sweetly can she sing As fair as fine as Filomel A daughter for a King For in the night and darkness thick She â—ongs to leane against a prick Fa la lanke down dilly My mistress is a nettle sharp And dangerous to finger A gallant wench and full of mettle I woose shee is a stinger For if you do but touch her hips Ther 's no such liquor for your lips Fa la c. My mistress is an Owle by night All day she keeps her bed For fear she should her beauty burn And no man would her wed But be she fair or foul in sight She is as good as Hellen in the night Fa la lanke down dilly My mistress is a moon so bright Would God that I could win her She loves to be sturring in the night And keep a man within her A man that were both prick and thornes Once a month shee 'l make him were hornes Fa la lanke down Dilly My mistress is a Tobaccopipe Soon burn'd and often broke Shee carrieth fire in her brink That yieldeth forth no smoke If sâ—ee have not a clean skin Shee hath a rumy thing within Fa la lanke down dilly My mistress is a ship of warr Much shot discharged at her Her Puppe receiveth many a scarr Oft driven by winde and water Although she grapples at the last Shee sinks and striketh down the mast Fa la lanke down dilly Why should I my mistress call An instrument a bable A shuttle cock a Tenice ball A Ship of war unstabl'd Say but this and say no more Shee is a wanton and a hay ho. Fa la lanke down â—iâ—ly On Luce Morgan a Common-VVâ—ore EPIGRAM HEre lies black Luce that Pick-hatch drab Who had a word for every stab Was leacherous as any Sparrow Her Quiver ope to every arrow Wer't long or short or black or white She would be sure to noch it right Wer 't Lords or Knights or Priests or Squires Of any sort except a Friers A Friers shaft she lackt alone Because England here was none At last some Vestall fire she stole Which never went out in her hole And with that zealous fire being burn'd Vnto the Romish faith she turn'd And therein dy'd and was 't not fit For a poor whore to dye in it An Epitaph on a VVhore IN this cold Monument lies one Which I knew who hath lain upon The happier he whose sight might charm And touch might keep King David warme Lovely as is the dawning East Was this Marbles frozen guest As glorious and as bright as day As oderiferous as May. As streight and slender as the Crest Or Antler of the one beam'd Beast Whome I admired as soon as I knew And now her memory persue With such a superstitious Lust That I could fumble with her dust She all perfections had and more Tempting as if design'd an whore For so she was and some there are Whores I could wish them all as faire Courteous she was and yong and wise And in her calling so precise That industry had made her prove The sucking School-Mistress of Love But Death ambitious to become Her Pupil left his gastly home And seeing how we us'd her here The raw-bone Raskal ravish'd her Who pretty soul resign'd her breath To practice Lechery with death A mock-song 1. OH Love whose power and might No Creature ere withstood Thou forcest me to write Come turn about Robin-hood 2. Sole Mistress of my heart Let me thus farr presume To make this request A black patch for the Rhume 3. Grant pitty or I die Love so my heart bewitches With grief I houle and cry Oh how my Elbow Itches 4. Teares overflow my eyes With flouds of daily weeping That in the silent night I cannot rest for sleeping 5. What is 't I would not doe To purchase one sweet smile Bid me to China goe Faith I 'le sit still the while 6. Oh women you will never But think men still will flatter I vow I love you ever But yet it is no matter 7. Cupid is blind they say But yet methinks he seeth He struck my heart to day A Turd in Cupids teeth 8. Her Treâ—ses that were wrought Much like the golden snare My loving heart hath caught As Mosse did catch his Mare 9. But since that all reliefe And comfort doe forsake me â—'le kill my self with grief Nay then the Devill take me 10 And since her grateful merits My loving look must lack â—'le stop my vitall spirits With Claret and with Sack 11. Marke well my woful hap Iove rector of the Thunder Send down thy thunder-clap And rend her smock in sunder The Answer 1. YOur Letter I receiv'd Bedect with flourishing quarters Because you are deceiv'd Goe hang you in your Garters 2. My beauty which is none Yet such as you protest Doth make you sigh and groan Fie fie you do but jest 3. I cannot chuse but pitty Your restless mourneful teares Because your plaints are witty You may goe shake your eares 4. To purchase your delight No labour you shall leese Your pains I will requite Maid go fetch him Bread and Cheese 5. 'T is you I faine would see 'T is you I daily think on My looks as kind shall be As the Devills over Lincoln 6. If ever I do tame Great Iove of lightnings flashes I 'le send my fiery flame And burn thee into ashes 7. I can by no meanes miss thee But needs must have thee one day I prethee come and kiss me Whereon I sat on Sunday In praise of his Mistrisses beauty 1. I Have the fairest non-perel The fairest that ever was seen And had not Venus been in the way She had been beauties Queen 2. Her lovely looks her comly grace I will describe at large God Cupid put her in his books And of this Jem took charge 3. The Graecian Hellen was a Moore Compar'd to my dear Saint And fair fac'd Hyrens beauty poor And yet she doth not paint 4. Andromeda whom Perseus lov'd Was foule were she in sight Her lineaments so well approv'd In praise of her I 'le write 5. Her haire not like the golden wire But black as any Crow Her browes so beetl'd all admire Her
before you do sit Will strive to repulse you with fire-balls of wit But alas they 'r but Crackers and seldome do hit Then vanquish them after With Alarums of laughter Their forces being broke Their forces being broke And the fire quite past you may vanquish the smoak Their forces being broke And the fire quite past you may vanquish the smoak 4. With pride and with state some outworks we make And with volleys of frownes drive the enemy back If you mind them discreetly they are easie to take Then to it nere fear them But boldly come neer them By working about By working about If you once but approach they can nere hold it out By working about If you once but approach they can nere hold it out 5. Some Ladies with blushes and modesty fight And with their own fear the rude foe doth affright But they 'r easie surpriz'd if you come in the night Then thus you must drive it To parley in private And the'yr overthrown If you promise them so fairly they 'l soon be your your own And the'yr overthrown If you promise them so fairly they 'l soon be your own A SONG WEe 'l go no more to Tunbridge wells The journey is too farr Nor ride in Epsome Wagon where Where our bodies jumbled are But we will all to the West-wood waters goe The best that ere you saw And we will have them hence forth call'd The Kentish new found spaw Then go Lords and Ladies what e're you aile Go thither all that pleases For it will cure you without all fail Of old and new diseases â—f you would know how it as out found The truth I cannot tell â—ome say it was by Docter Trig and so became a Well Others affirme his patient Which did much pain indure Went thither and washt a festered sore And had a perfect cure Then go c. Thither all the Countrey people flock By day and eke by night And for to fill their bottles full They scramble scratch and fight But when the Gentry thither come And others of good fashion There is is presented unto them A fine accommodation Then go c. Ioans hole was the first was dig'd My Ladies was next after When you are there you 'l hardly taste which is the better water For it is so that my Laidies hole Is digged so neer to Ioane That and if the people be too rude They will break both holes into one Then go c. Ladies there you may your bodyes cleanse By stoole and Urine too 'T will make you have a stomack too 't Whether you wil or no. There you may skip behind a bush A fitting place to finde 'T will make you ope and shut your purse Before and eke behinde Then go c If I should tell you it would cure Each malady and grief Perhaps you would be like other men Or people past beliefe Therefore I pray will you think it fit Go thither all and try And when you have approv'd of it You 'l say as much as I. Then go c. Of banishing the Ladies out of Town 1. A Story strange I will unfold Then which a sadder ne're was told How the Ladies were from London sent With mickle woe and discontent 2. â— heart of Marble would have bled To see this rout of white and red Both Yorke and Lancaster must fly With all their painted Monarchy 3. Those faces which men so much prize In Mrs. Gibbs her Liveries Must leave their false and borrowed hue And put on greif that 's onely true 4. Those pretty patches long and round Which covered all that was not sound Must be forgotten at the Farmes As useless and suspitious charmes 5. Now we must leave all our designes That were contriv'd within the Lines Communication is deny'd If to our Husbands we be tryed 6. And here 's the misery alone We must have nothing but our own Oh give us Liberty and we VVill never aske propriety 7. Alas how can a kiss be sent From Rocky Cornwall into Kent Or how can Sussex stretch an arme To keep a Northern servant warme 8. Oh London Centre of all Mirth Th' Epitome of English Earth All Provinces are in the streets And Warwick-shire with Essex meets 9. Then farwel Queen-street and the Fields And Garden that such pleasure yeilds Oh who would such faire Lodgings change To nestle in a plunder'd grange 10. Farewell good places old and new And Oxford Kates once more adieu But it goes unto our very hearts To leave the Cheese-cakes and the Tarts 11. Farewell Bridge-foot and Bear thereby And those bald-pates that stand so high VVe wish it from our very soules That other heads were on those powles 12. But whether hands of Parliament Or of Husbands we 're content Since all alike such Traitors be both against us and Monarchy A SONG 1. LAy that sulley Garland by thee Keep it for the Elyzian shades Take my Wreathes of lusty Ivy Not of that faint mirtle made When I see thy soule descending To that cool and sterrill plaine Of fond fooles the Lake attending You shall weare this wreath again Then drink wine and know the odds 'Twixt that Lethe 'twixt that Lethe Twixt that Lethe and the Gods 2. â—ouse thy dull and drowsie spirits â— Behold the soule reviving streams â—hat stupid Lovers brains inherits â—ought but dull and empty dreams Think not those dismall trances With our raptures can contend The lad that laughs and sings and dances May come sooner to his end Sadness may some pitty move Mirth and Courage vanquish Love 3. Fye then on that cloudy fore-head Ope those vainly crossed armes you may as well call back the buried As raise Love by such dull charmes Sacrifice a Glass of Claret To each letter of her name Gods themselves descend for it Mortals must do more the same If she come not in that flood Sleep will come and that 's as good An Answer 1. CAst that Ivy Garland from thee Leave it for some ruder blade Venus Wreathes will best become me Not of blazing Bacchus made When my high flown soule ascended To Loves bright and warmer sphear Whilst with Chaplets I 'me attended Then an Ivy bush shall weare Sober Lovers some may prove Mortals tipple mortals tipple Gods doe love 2. Welcome merry melancholly Fancying beauties quickning beames Boone Companions will though jolly Shrink in over wetting streames Think not that these ranting humors May with modesty contend Lesser love toyes often doe more When they come unto their end Purenesse may some pitty move Sober carriage charme a Love 3. Offer up a yoke of kisses To the Lady you adore Iove for such a bliss as this is Would come down as heretofore If this way she can't be had Drinking comes and that 's as bad A SONG 1. NO mans love firy passions can approve As either yeilding pleasure promotion I like of milde and luke-warme zeale in Love Although I do not like it in devotion 2. For it hath no choherence in
keeping of sweet Sir Iarvis They gave him a Clister made his belly to blisteâ—â— Oh there was a sweet piece of service 11. â—his freind he denied and would not abide A Marrige that so would shame us â—etween this sweet Matron this grave Patron Oh Patron of Ignoramus 12. Now Weston and Horn and Turner do turn And say that this plot was fraude These may say their pleasure some think hard measure Oh knaves and Punkes and Bawds A SONG THou Shephard whose intentive eye On every Lambe is such a spie No willy foe can make them less Where may I find my Sheaperdess A little pausing then said he How can this Jewel stay from thee â—n Summers heat in winters cold â— thought thy brest had been her folde It is indeed the constant place Wherein my thoughts still see her face And print her Image in my heart But yet my fond eyes crave a part With that he smiling said I might Of Cloaris party have a sight And some of her perfections meet In every flower that 's fresh and sweet That growing Lilly weares her skin The Violet her blew veines within The Damaske Rose now blown and spread Her sweeter cheeks her lips as red The winds that wanton with the Spring Such Odors as her breathings bring But the resemblance of her eyes Was never found beneath the skies Her charming voice who strives to fit His object must be higher yet For Heavens Earth and all we see Disperst collected is but she A maide at this discourse methoughts Love both ambition in me wrought And made me covet to ingross A wealth would prove a publick loss With that I sighth ashamed to see Such worth in her such want in mee Closing both mine eyes forbid The world my sight since she was hid A Song To the Tune of Packingtons Pound 1. MY masters and friends and good people draw near And look to your Purses for that I do say And though little mony in them you do wear It cost more to get than to lose in a day You oft have been told Both the young and the old And bidden beware of the Cut-purse so bold Then if you take heed not free me from this curse Who both give you warning for and the Cut-purse Youth youth thou hadst better been sterv'd by thy Nurse Then live to be hanged for cutting a purse 2. It hath been upbraided to men of my Trade That oft-times we are the cause of this crime Alack and for pity why should it be said As if they regarded or places or time Examples have been Of some that were seen In Westminster Hall yea the Pleaders between Then why should the Judges be free from this curse More than my poor self for cutting the purse Youth youth c. 3. At Worcester 't is known well and even i'th'Jayl A Kt. of good worth did there shew his face Against the frail sinner in rage for to rail And lost ipso facto his purse in the place Nay ev'n from the seat Of Judgment so great A Judge there did lose a fair purse of Velvet O Lord for thy mercy how wicked or worse Are those that so venture their necks for a purse Youth youth c. 4. At Playes and at Sermons and at the Sessions 'T is daily their practice such booty to make Yea under the Gallows at Executions They stick not they stare about purses to take Nay one without Grace At a better place At Court and in Christmas before the Kings face Alack then for pity must I bear the curse That onely belong to the cunning Cut-purse Youth youth c. 5. But O you vile nation of Cut-purses all Relent and repent and amend and be â—ound And know that you ought not by honest mens fall To advance your own fortunes to dye above ground And though you go gay In Silks as you may It is not the high-way to Heaven as they say Repent then repent you for better for worse And kiss not the Gallows for cutting a purse Youth youth thou hadst better been sterv'd by thy nurse Then live to be hanged for cutting a purse To the Tune of I wail in wo I plunge in pain OR LABANDOLA shot Verse 1. IN Cheapside famous for Gold and Plate Quicksilver I did dwell of late I had a master good and kind That would have wrought me to his mind He bade me still work upon that But alas I wrought I knew not what He was a Touch-stone black but true And told me still what would ensue Yet wo is me I would not learn I saw alas but covld not discern Verse 2. I cast my Coat and Cap away I went in Silks and Sattens gay False mettal of good manners I Did daily coyne unlawfully I scorn'd my master being drunk I kept my Gelding and my Punk And with a Knight Sir Flash by name Who now is sorry for the same Verse 3. Still Eastward-Hoe was all my word But Westward I had no regard Nor ever thought what would come after As did alas his youngest Daughter At last the black Oxe trod on my foot I saw then what belong'd unto 't Now cry I Touch-stone touch me still And make me current by thy skill Verse 4. O Manington thy stories show Thou cut'st a Horse head off at a blow But I confess I have not the force For to cut off the head of a Horse Yet I desire this grace to win That I may cut off the Horse head of sin And leave his body in the dust Of sins high-way and bogs of lust Whereby I may take Vertue 's purse And live with her for better for worse Verse 5. Farewel Cheapside farewel sweet Trade Of Goldsmiths all that never shall fade Farewel dear Fellow-prentises all And be you warned by my fall Shun Usurers bonds and Dice and Drabs Avoid them as you would French scabs Seek not to go beyond your teacher And cut your thongs unto your leather So shall you thrive by little and little Scape Tyburn Counters and the Spittle A Song 1. LAdies here I do present you With a dainty dish of fruit The first it was a Poplin Pear 'T was all the fruit the tree did bear You need not pare it any whit But put it all in at a bit And being let a while to lye 'T will melt 't will melt 't will melt most pleasantly 2. The next in order you shall have A rich Potata and a brave Which being laid unto the fire God Cupid kindles to desire For when 't is baste with little cost 'T will baste it self when it is rost It needs no sugar nor no spice 'T will please a stomach nere so nice 'T will make a maid at midnight cry It comes it comes it comes it comes most pleasantly 3. The next by lot as doth befall Is two handfuls of Roundsefals Which Priamus the Garden god Made Venus eat within the Cod You must not prune too much at first For if you do tears out will
side So fat mans bunghole being open Keeps saylors all from being a slopen He stench abundant forth doth send Making each boy stand to ropes end By which we finde it requisite Fat men aboard in storm do shite He that at fun le ts out a peck Is a prime man to scoure a deck Now for your female valour I Some rare examples shall descry Let us look ore the water there Where guts are carryed to the bear I mean that London spoyling burrough Which you to Kent must ride clean thorough Those that so treacherously let in Such mortals as make wealth a sin Which for their service late so rare Shall have an asse for their new mayor But for the masters of their state In this discourse I 'le not relate The wenches with broad haunches I Intend in this place to descry Such whose large podes do roar as loud As wind doth in a tall ships shroud Their blasts are such as you with wonder If not beheld would swear were thunder But when they rain and blow together You never heard such stormy weather Such as will fright the wondering sense And to the Nasus give offence For like the touchhole of a gun The sents perfumed from the sun This for the virtue now the trade Of these sweet wives so roundly made Your neat panch clenser is a woman That spreadeth in the haunch most common Your neat panch clenser is tâ—ipe-boyler Which trade is a great finger-foyler But these large wives with hubergums Their tongues with railing bruise their gums And bones of armes in skin do rattle When with their wenches they have battle I could more instances recite Of womens valour when they fight But now I mean to leave the theam Of choler mixt with dirty fleam Repeating something of fat Squire Who alwayes shites when he 's in ire The Officer of our wise Ward Fat as a Bear or the Bearward Which if you name but the word fight Immediately it makes him shite Let any man discharge a gun And he as soon discharge's tun It is his natural love to fighting Makes him so prone and apt to shiteing Nor altogether of their spleen For all their choller is so keen Their loves do more abound than spite And they do shew it when they shite Fat man and wife together went To cleanse each others fundament For so well grown was either belly They could not do 't themselves I tell ye This I dare boldly say sans sinning Shitten come shite is loves beginning This further know fat folks do scummer As much as Cows do give in Summer And that must be a fruitful tail That at one dunging fills a Pail Nor is 't amiss that I recite The Parley they did use at shite Dialogue Kind words are worth a world of money Qu. Dost thou piss love Ans. No I shite hony Such questions would the good man ask When wife was troubled with the lask For she when laskish shite so thin It might have serv'd to shave a chin Some think it needful to be sed Of love they used to shite in bed Large panches did so shorten arme Own privy members could not warme Their Sausige-plumped fingers ends But commonly like loving friends In winter morning you may catch Her hand on he fingring Thus they do keep their fingers warm Doing to neither any harm Love in all ages was commended And by Monarchy still defended Fat people were the landed theams Of Iulius Caesar and King Iames. They keep their minds in such pure quiet Which battens them as much as dyet And now I leave the fat folks friends Which musick maketh at both ends For pode and throat they both extend To make a sweet harmonious end Ioane Easie got her a Nag and a Sledge To the Privy-house for to slide a The hole was be shit That she could not sit But did cack as she lay on her side a She was not wind For she sent forth a sound Did stretch her fundament wide a On the print of a Ladies foot cut on the Leads of Kings Colledge Chappel where before she had fallen HEre once my Princess when we first did meet Made proud the Leads and let them kisse her feet They not contented with a part so small Gave her a slip and with that slip a fall So did they get the grace to kiss her hand A better part than that whereon we stand Bold saucy Leads that as proud Coblers do Durst pass their bounds touch above the shoe But why do I the Leads ambition blame Had I been they I should have done the same Onely I would have melted at the meeting And not have hurt her with so hard a greeting But O! what name so bad by which to call Her servants negligence that let her fall Yet this excuse he hath 't was rainy weather And this his comfort they fell both together Such falls before advancement I 'de prefer And wish to fall again so 't were with her But see her triumph where she fell before Her foot stands now engrav'd and slips no more The conquer'd Leads in penance have received The print of that whose trust it once deceived And wounded bears to all posterity The punishment of its disloyalty A just requital onely 't will be said So rare a gemme should not be set in Lead To a Lady commanding him to write a defiance to Love DO I want torture then that I Loves awful power must thus defie Or in old stories do you find That Love is deaf as well as blind Or else do you resolve from hence To non-plus my obedience Well then your own command doth move Me to blaspheme your self and love The Defiance Once so foolish too was I To doat on Natures vanity That trifle woman which they say She made to pass the time away When she had nothing else to do And faith 't is very likely too O! I had a tedious fit Of love methinks I feel it yet I 'le swear it held me half an hour But Cupid now I scorn thy power Shew me in one Ladies eye Thy strength of thy artillery Shew me a cheek where may be seen Thy sprightly wanton magazine Shew me a lip that 's dyed in grain With the hearts bloud of those 't 'as slain Yet I have vowed I 'le never dye For that lip or cheek or eye Shew me a neck whose milky way Vie splendor with the King of day Shew me a brest darts flames although It self doth seem compos'd of snow Shew me a belly so divine Thou though a god wouldst make it thine Yet Cupid I the same dare tell ye For all this neck or breast or belly Shew me a thigh whose softnesse can And whitenesse baffle Ledas Swan Shew me a leg which would invite The strictest Hermite to delight Shew me a foot whose pretty shape Would make a Saint commit a rape Yet I have vow'd I le never dye For that foot or leg or thigh To a Lady on a fall in which
both know how to utter It is a Bile what Epithete shall I Finde for to call so dull a creature by Shall I proclaim thee block-head and yet call Thee so I can't thou hast no head at all Could'st thou but get a head and ripen faster I would not break thy head but add a plaister Or shall I call thee coward 'cause I find Thee alwayes in one place and still behind Well since thou art a coward prethee play The cowards part and quickly run away Or shall I call thee ungrate vexing me That brought thee up and breeding gave to thee Yet prethee be not angry O my Bile Thou look'st to have bin praised all this while Shall I commend thee then and so I will Commend thee to the Surgeon and his skill Reader forbear to frown or carp at least For nought but corrupt matter here doth rest Thus do I ease my paines and when my bile Begins to rage then I oppose my style Thus did that Roman Possidonius stout And Scaliger did thus out-brave the gout To a Gentlewoman from her formerly betrothed but deserted servant he being invited to the celebration of her Nuptials WHy faire vow-breaker hath thy sinne thought fit I be the curst example of thy wit As well as scorn Bad woman did not I Deserve as much as quiet misery Be wise and trouble not my suffering fit For every sin I have repentance yet Except for loving thee do not thou presse My easie madnesse to a wretchednesse So high as that lest I be driven so As far from heaven as thou art which I know Is not thine aime for thou hast sinned to be In place as in affection far from me Was I thy friend or kinsman had I ought What was familiar with thee saving thought A dream some letters too that scattered lie Neglected records of my misery I know no itch my silent sorrow moves To beg a Bridal-kisse or paire of Gloves Those are the lighter duties which they seek Whose sleeps are found constant as the week Is in her course and never felt the chance Of love amisse but in a dream or trance And wak'd with gladnesse 't is not so with me My days and nights are twins in misery Bid me first catch the plague wish me to be A witnesse to my mothers infamy Bespeak me to be sham'd cause me to bring My self an Eunuch to a Gossiping Upon record how desperate wer't thou bent T' invite me to a wedding Complement Should I come there when that the holy man With his religious magick hath begun To tye thee from me I might leap into A rage and safely all your lives undoe When heaven would be so courteous to disguise The blood-shed with the name of sacrifice Silent as sorrows lodgings had I dwelt Followed with my despair and never felt Anger except in living hadst thou bin Content with my undoing but that 's sin I never shall forgive thee to upbraide A wretchedness which thou thy self hast made Heaven knows I suffered and I suffered so That by me 't was infallible to know How passive man is Fate knew not a curse But in thy new content to make it worse And that thou gav'st when I so low was brought That I knew nought but thee and then I thought And counted sighs and tears as if to scan The aire and water which composeth man Diseas'd I was diseas'd past thine own cure Yet would'st thou kill what made me to endure My patience strange murderess would you prove Whether that were as mortal as your love Have women such a way as they can give To men denial and with love to live Why then abhor'd in reason tell me why Successelesse Lovers do so quickly die And be it so with me but if a curse May first be fasten'd on thee which is worse Than thy unwept-for vow-breach may it come As thy sins heap and may the tedious sum Of thy great sins stand centinel to keep Repentance from thy thoughts breach may thy sleep Be broken as my hopes 'bove all may he Thou chufest husband grow to jealousie Then find it true and kill thee may the themes On which thy thoughts do paraphrase in dreams Be my sad wrongs and when some other shall Whom Fate with me hath made apocriphall In loving stories search and instance forth To damn his mistress for as little worth Let thy name meet him under which let be A common place of womens perjury May heavens make all this true and if thou pray Let God esteem it as thou didst the pay Of thy last promise I have said be free This pennance done my day of destiny By thee is antidated but three sighs First I must pay admission to the skies One for my madness to love women so That I could think thee true the next I 'le throw For wronged Lovers that I 'le breath anew The last shall beg my curses be made true The Royal Captive or the Worlds Epitome 1. HOw happy 's the prisoner that conquers his fates With silence and nere on bad fortune complains But carelesly plays with his keys on the grates And makes a sweet consort with thē his chains He drowns care with Sack when his heart is opprest And makes it to float like a Cork in his brest Then since we 're all slaves that Highlanders be And the land 's a large prison inclos'd with the sea We 'l drink up the Ocean and set our selves free For man is the worlds Epitome 2. Let Tyrants wear purple deep dyed in the blond Of those they have slain their Scepters to sway If our conscience be clear and our title be good To the rags we have on us we 're better than they We drink down at night what we beg or can borrow And sleep without plotting for more the next morrow Then since we 're all c. 3. Let the Usurer look to his bags and his house And guard that from robbers he has rak'd from his dettors Each mid-night cries thieves at the noise of a mouse Then see if his bags are not bound in their feters When once he is rich enough for a State-plot Buff in one hour plunders what sixty years got Then since we 're all c. 4. Come Drawer and fills a peck of Canary This brimmer shall bid all our senses good-night When old Aristotle was frolick and merry VVith the juice of the grape he turn'd stagerite Copernicus once in a drunken fit found By the course of his brain that the world turn'd round Then since we 're all c. 5. 'T is Sack makes our faces like Comets to shine And gives beauty beyond the complexions mask Diogenes was so in love with his wine That when 't was all out he dwelt in the Cask He liv'd hy the sent of that wainscoated Room And dying requested the Tub for his Tomb Then since we 're all slaves that High-landers be And the land 's a large prison inclos'd with the sea We 'l drink up
frets Caron is glad to see poor Maudlin mad And away his boat he gets Through the Earth through the Sea through unknown iles Through the lofty skies Have I sought with sobs and cryes For my hungry mad Tom and my naked sad Tom Yet I know not whether he lives or dies My plaints makes Satyrs civil The Nimphs forget their singing The Fairies have left their gambal and their theft The plants and the trees their springing Mighty Leviathan took a Consumption Triton broke his Organ Neptune despis'd the Ocean Flouds did leave their flowing Churlish winds their blowing And all to see poor Maudlins action The Torrid Zone left burning The Deities stood a striving Despised Iove from Iuno took a glove And strook down Ran from whistling Mars for fear lay couching Apollo's cap was fir'd Poor Charles his wain was thrown into the main The nimble Post lay tir'd Saturn Damas Vulcan Venus All lay husht and drunk Hells fire through heaven was rim Fates and men remorseless Hated our grief and hoâ—â—sness And yet not one could tell of Tom. Now whiâ—her shall I wander Or whiâ—her shall I flye The heavens do weep the earth the air the deeps Are wearied with my cry Let me up and steal the Trumpet That summons all to doom At one poor blast the Elements shall cast All creatures from her womb Dyon with his Heptune Death with destruction Stormy clouds and weather Shall call all souls together Against I find my Tomkin I le provide a Pumkin And we will both be blithe together A Song SIR Egley More that valiant Knight With his fa-la lanctre down dille He fetcht his sword and he went to fight With his fa-la and his lanctre down dille As he went over hill and dale All clothed in his coat of male With his fa-la his fa-la and his lanctre down dilleâ— A huge great Draggon leaps out of his den With his Which had kill'd the Lord knows how many men With his But when he saw Sir Egley More Good lack had you seen how this Draggon did 〈◊〉 With his This Draggon he had on a plaguy hide With his Which could both sword and spear abide With his He could not enter with hacks and cuts VVhich vext the Knight to the heart bloud and guts VVith his All the trees in the wood did shake VVith his Stars did tremble and man did quake VVith his But had you seen how the birds lay peeping T' would have made a mans heart to a fallen a weeping VVith his c. But now it was too late to fear VVith his For now it was come to â—ight dog fight bear VVith his And as a yawning he did fall He thrust his sword in hilts and all VVith his But now as the Knight in choller did burn With his He ow'd the Dragon a shrew'd good turn With his In at his mouth his sword he bent The hilt appeared at his fundament VVith his Then the Dragon like a Coward began to fly VVith his Unto his Den that was hard by With his And there he laid him down and roar'd The Knight was vexed for his sword With his The Sword it was a right good blade With his As ever Turk or Spaniard made With his I for my part do forsake it And he that will fetch it let him take it With his c. When all this was done to the Ale-house he went With his And by and by his two pence he spent VVith his For he was so hot with tugging with the Dragon That nothing could quench him but a whole Flagon VVith his Now God preserve our King and Queen VVith his And eke in London may be seen VVith his As many Knights and as many more And all so good as Sir Eglemore VVith his c. Cupid and the Clown AS Cupid took his bow and bolt Some birding for to find He chanced on a Country Swain Which was some Yeomans hinde Clown VVell met fair boy what sport abroad It is a goodly day The birds will â—it this frosty morn You cannot chuse but sâ—ay Go haste why Sir your eyes be out You will not bird I trow Alas go home or else I think The birds will laugh at you Cupid VVhy man thou dost deceive thy self Or else my mother lyes VVho said although that I were blind My arrowes might have eyes Clown VVhy then thy mother is a Voole And thou art but an elfe To let thy arrowes to have eyes And go without thy self Cup. Not â—o Sir Swain but hold your peace If I do take a shaft I 'le make thee know what I can do VVith that the plough-man laught The angry Cupid drew his bow Clo. For God sake kill me not Cup. I 'le make thy Leather-head to crake Clo. Nay childe be loath of that The stinging arrow hot the mark And pierc'd the silly soul You might know by his hollow eyes VVhether love had made the hole And â—o the Clown went bleeding home To stay it was no boot And knew that he could see to hiâ— VVhich could not see to shoot A Song SIr Francis Sir Francis Sir Francis his son Sir Robert and eke Sir William did come And eke the good Earl of Southampton March't on his way most gallantly And then the Queen began to speak You are welcome home Sir Francis Drake Then came my Lord Chamberlain and with his white staffe And all people began for to laugh The Queens Speech Gallants all of British bloud VVhy do not ye saile on th' Ocean flood I protest ye are not all worth a Philberd Compared with Sir Humphrey Gilberd The Queens Reason For he walkt forth in a rainy day To the new-found Land he took his way With many a gallant fresh and green He never come home agen God bless the Queen A Song O Thou that sleep'st like Pig in straw Thou Lady dear Arise Arise Arise Hoping to keep thy son in awe Thy little twinkling eyes And having stretcht both leg and arme Put on thy whiter smock And for to keep thy body warm Thy Peticoat and Dock The shops were open'd long ago And youngest Prentise go ho hoes To lay at 's Mistress chamber door His masters shining shoes Arise arise why should you sleep Since you have slept enough Long since French boyes cry'd Chimny-sweep And Damsels Kitchin-stuff A Song NOne but my self my heart do keep Aâ— I on Cowslip bed did sleep Near to a pleasant boge Where thou my pretty â—ogue With Knuckles knocking at my breast Did ask for my three-corner'd guest And whisphering said as soft as voice might be Come forth thou little rogue to me A thousand thousand fiends as black as foot With all their dirty damms to boot Take thee O take thee every day For stealing I and my poor heart away This heart of mine for joy did leap And follow'd thee even step by step Till tired at the last 't was thick and plump and round before Weighing a full pound weight and more And now it 's sunk unto the