We enjoy our ease and rest,
To the fields we are not pressed:
And when taxes are increased,
We are not a penny 'sessed.
V
Nor will any go to law,
With a maunder for a straw,
All which happiness he brags,
Is only owing to his rags.
"Now swear him"--
I crown thy nab with a gage of ben bouse,[4]
And stall thee by the salmon into clowes,[5]
To maund on the pad, and strike all the cheats, [6]
To mill from the Ruffmans, Commission, and slates, [7]
Twang dells i' th' stiromel, and let the Quire Cuffin
And Harman Beck strine and trine to the ruffin. [8]
[1: beggar]
[2: constables]
[3: magistrates]
[4: I pour on thy pate a pot of good ale]
[5: And install thee, by oath, a rogue]
[6: To beg by the way, steal from all,]
[7: Rob hedge of shirt and sheet,]
[8: To lie with wenches on the straw, so let all magistrates and
constables go to the devil and be hanged!]
THE HIGH PAD'S BOAST
[_b_. 1625]
[Attributed to JOHN FLETCHER--a song from a collection of black-letter
broadside ballads. Also in _New Canting Dict_. 1725.]
I
I keep my Horse; I keep my whore;
I take no rents; yet am not poor;
I travel all the land about,
And yet was born to ne'er a foot.