Printed for J. Wright,[F. 5] J. Clarke,[F. 6] W. Thackeray,[F. 7] and
T. Passinger.[F. 8]
[Footnote 1: Floats, _i.e._ skims the cream floating on the
milk.]
[Footnote 2: Feels whether they have eggs.]
[Footnote 3: One who meddles in women's business.]
[Footnote 4: Chattering.]
[Footnote 5: Published from 1670 to 1690.]
[Footnote 6: From 1650 to 1682.]
[Footnote 7: From 1660 to 1680.]
[Footnote 8: From 1670 to 1682.]
[8.] The Marquess of _Worcester_, calling for a glass of Claret wine,
it was told him by his Physician, that Claret wine was naught for his
gout; What, said the Marquess, my old friend Claret? nay, give it me
in spight of all Physicians and their books, it never shall be said
that I forsook my friend for my enemy.
_On a cowardly Souldier._
_Strotzo_ doth weare no ring upon his hand, [5.]
Although he be a man of great command;
But gilded spurs do jingle at his heeles;
Whose rowels are as big as some coach wheels,
He grac'd them well, for in the Netherlands,
His heels did him more service than his hands.
_On a fly in a glasse._
A fly out of his glasse a guest did take, [5.]
'Ere with the liquor he his thirst would slake,
When he had drunk his fill, again the fly
Into the glasse he put, and said, though I
Love not flyes in my drink yet others may,
Whose humour I nor like, nor will gainsay.
_Upon a Churle that was a great usurer._
A Chuffe that scarce hath teeth to chew his meate, [9.]
Heares with deafe ears, and sees with glassy eies,
Unto his grave his path doth daily beate,
Or like a logg upon his pallett lies:
Hath not a thought of God, nor of his grace,
Speaks not a word but what intends to gaine,
Can have no pitty on the poore Mans case,
But will the hart-strings of the needy straine:
Cries not till death, and then but gives a groane,
To leave his silver, and his golden bags,
Then gapes and dies, and with a little moane
Is lapped up in a few rotten ragges:
What will this Clunch fist leave upon his grave?
Here lies the Carkasse of a wretched Knave.
[4.] An Arch Wag speaking of the late dreadful Fire of _London_, said
Cannon Street roared, Wood Street was burnt to Ashes, Bread Street was
burnt to a Coal, Pie Corner was over bak'd and Snow hill melted down.
[4.] A Highway man being to be hang'd in a Country Town, Order was
sent to the Carpenter to make a Gallows; which he neglecting to do,
the Execution was forc'd to be defer'd, for which the Judge was not a
little angry, who sending for the Carpenter, asked him why he had not
done it? Why Sir, said he, I have done two or three already, but was
never paid for them; but had I known it had been for your Worship, I
would have left all other business to have done it.
Sir _Egley More_[F. 9] that Valiant Knight, [3.]
With his fa, la, lanctre down dille;
He fetcht his sword and he went to fight
With his fa, la, lanctre down dille;
As he went over hill and dale,
All cloathed in his coat of Male,
With his fa, la, lanctre down dille.
A huge great Dragon leapes out of his Den,
With his &c.
Which had kill'd the Lord knowes how many men,
With his &c.
But when he saw Sir _Egly More_,
Good lack had you seen how this Dragon did roare
With his &c.
This Dragon he had on a plaguy hide,
With his &c.
Which could both sword and speare abide,
All the trees in the wood did shake,
With his &c.
Stars did tremble and man did quake,
With his &c.
But had you seen how the birds lay peeping,
'Twould have made a mans heart to a' fallen a weeping.
With his &c.
But now it was too late to feare,
With his &c.
For now it was come to fight dog, fight beare,
With his &c.
And as a yawning he did fall,
He thrust his sword in, hilts and all.
With his &c.
But now as the Knight in coller[F. 10] did burne,
With his &c.
He ow'd the Dragon a shrewd good turne;
With his &c.
In at his mouth his sword he bent,
The hilt appeared at his fundament.
With his &c.
Then the Dragon like a Coward began to fly,
With his &c.
Unto his Den that was hard by.
With his &c.
And there he laid him down and roar'd;
The Knight was vexed for his sword,
With his &c.
The Sword it was a right good blade,
With his &c.
As ever Turk or Spaniard made;
With his &c.
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 &c.
And by and by his two pence he spent;
With his &c.
For he was so hot with tugging with the Dragon,
That nothing could quench him but a whole Flagon.
With his &c.
Now God preserve our King and Queen,
With his &c.
And eke in London may be seene,
With his &c.
As many Knights, and as many more,
And all as good as Sir _Eglemore_.
With his &c.
[Footnote 9: For tune see Appendix.]
[Footnote 10: Choler, anger.]
[1.] There was a Fryer in _London_, which did use to go often to the
house of an old woman, but ever when he came to her house, she hid
all the meat she had. On a time this Fryer came to her house (bringing
certain Company with him) and demanded of the Wife if she had any
meat. And she said, Nay. Well, quoth the Fryer, have you not a
whetstone? Yea (qd. the Woman) Marry, qd. he, I would make meat
thereof. Then she brought a whetstone. He asked her likewise if she
had not a Frying-pan. Yea, said she, but what the devil will ye do
therewith? Marry (said the Fryer) you shall see by and by what I will
do with it; and when he had the pan, he set it on the fire, and put
the whetstone therein. Cocks body, said the woman, you will burn the
pan. No, no, qd. the Fryer, if you will give me some eggs, it will not
burn at all. But she would have had the pan from him, when that she
saw it was in danger; yet he would not let her, but still urged her to
fetch him some eggs, which she did. Tush said the Fryer, here are
not enow, go fetch ten or twelve. So the good Wife was constrayned to
fetch more for feare lest the Pan should burn; And when he had them,
he put them in the Pan. Now, qd he, if you have no butter the pan will
burn, and the eggs too. So the good wife being very loth to have her
pan burnt, and the eggs lost, she fetcht him a dish of butter, the
which he put into the pan, and made good meat thereof, & brought to
the table, saying, Much good may it do you my Masters, now may you
say, you have eaten of a buttered Whetstone. Whereat all the Company
laughed, but the woman was exceeding angry because the Fryer had
subtilly beguiled her of her meat.
_The Devill and the Fryar._
The Devill was once deceived by a fryar, [5.]
Who though he sold his soul cheated the buyer.
The devill was promist if he would supply,
The Fryar with Coyn at his necessity,
When all the debts he ow'd discharg'd were quite,
The Devill should have his soul as his by right;
The Devill defray'd all scores, payd all; at last
Demanded for his due, his soul in haste:
The Fryar return'd this answer, if I owe
You any debts at all, then you must know
I am indebted still, if nothing be
Due unto you, why do you trouble me?
_On Battus._
Battus doth bragge he hath a world of bookes [5.]
His studies maw holds more than well it may,
But seld' or never he upon them looks,
And yet he looks upon them every day,
He looks upon their out side, but within
He never looks nor never will begin:
Because it cleane against his nature goes
To know mens secrets, so he keeps them Close.