For the Prodigality of his Wife, which doth daily
pillage his Purse.
To the Tune of the _Spinning Wheel_.
Licensed according to orders.
I have a Wife, the mores my Care, [20.]
who like a gaudy Peacock goes,
In Top Knots, Patches, Powder'd Hair,
besides she is the worst of shrows;
This fills my Heart with grief and care
To think I must this burthen bear.
It is her forecast to Contrive
to rise about the hour of Noon,
And, if she's Trimm'd and Rigg'd by Five
why this I count is very soon:
Then goes she to a Ball or Play
To pass the pleasant night away.
And when she home returns again
conducted by a Bully Spark,
If that I in the least complain,
she does my words and actions mark:
And does likewise my Gullet tear,
Then roars like Thunder in the Air.
I never had a Groat with her
most solemnly I here declare,
Yet she's as proud as_ Lucifer_,
and cannot study what to wear:
In sumptuous Robes she still appears
While I am forc'd to hide my Ears.
The lofty Top Knots on her Crown,
with which she sails abroad withal,
Makes me with Care alas! look down,
as having now no hope at all:
That ever I shall happy be
In such a flaunting Wife as she.
[Illustration]
In debt with ev'ry Shop she runs
for to appear in gaudy Pride,
And when the Millener she duns,
I then am forc'd my Head to hide:
Dear Friends, this proud imperious Wife
She makes me weary of my Life.
Sometimes with words both kind and mild
I let her know my wretched state,
For which I streightways am Revil'd:
says she, I will appear more Great
Than any Merchants _London_ Dame,
Tho' thou art ruin'd for the same.
'Tis true she is both fair and young,
and speaks _Italian_, _Greek_, _and Dutch_,
Besides she hath the scolding Tongue,
which is, in faith, a Tongue too much:
I dare not speak nor look awry,
For fear of her severity.
My worldly glory, joy and bliss
is turn'd to sorrow, grief and care,
He that has such a Wife as this,
needs no more torment I declare:
To buy those Trinkets which they lack,
Both Stock and Credit goes to Rack.
There's many more, as well as I,
in famous _London_ City fair,
Whose Wives with prodigality
doth fill their Husbands hearts with care;
I pity those with all my Heart,
Since I with them do bear a Part.
[4.] Two Persons who had been formerly acquainted, but had not seen
each other a great while, meeting on the Road, one ask'd the other
how he did; he told him He was very well, and was Married since he
saw him: the other reply'd, That was well indeed: not so well neither,
said he, for I have Married a Shrew. That's ill, said the other. Not
so ill neither, said he, for I had 2000 Pounds with her. That's well
again, said his Friend. Not so well neither, for I laid it out in
Sheep, and they died of the Rot. That was ill indeed, said the other.
Not so ill neither, said he, for I sold the Skins for more money than
the Sheep cost. That was well, indeed, quoth his friend. Not so
well neither, said he, for I laid out my money in a House and it was
burned. That's very ill, said the other. Not so ill neither, said he,
_for my Wife was burned in it_.
_On a little Gentleman and one Mr Story._
The little man, by t'other man's vain glory, [5.]
It seems was roughly us'd (so says the story)
But being a little heated and high blown,
In anger flyes at _Story_, puls him down;
And when they rise (I know not how it fated)
One got the worst, the _Story_ was translated
From white to red, but ere the fight was ended
It seems a Gentleman, that one befriended,
Came in and parted them; the little blade,
There's none that could intreat, or yet perswade,
But he would fight still, till another came,
And with sound reasons councel'd gainst the same.
'Twas in this manner; friend, ye shall not fight
With one that's so unequall to your height,
_Story_ is higher; t'other made reply,
I'd pluck him down were he three _Stories_ high.
[18.] A Tradesman that would never work by Candle light, was asked the
reason why? _To save Candles_, says he; _a Peny saved is a Peny got_.
_Epitaph on a Scrivener._
Here to a period is a Scriv'ner come; [13.]
This is his last sheet, full point and total sum.
Of all aspersions, I excuse him not,
'Tis plain, he liv'd not without many a blot;
Yet he no ill example shew'd to any,
But rather gave good coppies unto many,
He in good Letters alwayes had been bred,
And hath writ more, than many men have read.
He Rulers had at his command by law,
Although he could not hang, yet he could draw.
He did more Bond men make than any,
A dash of's pen alone did ruine many.
That not without all reason we may call
His letters, great or little, Capitall;
Yet 'tis the Scrivner's fate as sure as Just,
When he hath all done, then he falls to dust.
[8.] One was saying that his great Grandfather, and Grandfather, and
Father died at Sea. Said another that heard him, and I were you,
I would never come at Sea. Why, saith he, where did your great
Grandfather, Grandfather and Father die? He answered, where, but in
their beds? saith the other, _And I were as you, I would never come to
bed_.
_These following are to be understood two ways._
I saw a Peacock, with a fiery tail. [13.]
I saw a blazing Comet, drop down hail.
I saw a Cloud, with ivy Circled round.
I saw a sturdy Oak, creep on the ground.
I saw a Pismire,[F. 29] swallow up a Whale.
I saw a raging Sea, brim full of Ale.
I saw a Venice Glass, sixteen foot deep.
I saw a Well, full of mens tears that weep.
I saw their Eyes, all in a flame of fire.
I saw a House, as big as the Moon and higher.
I saw the Sun, even in the midst of night
I saw the Man that saw this wondrous sight.
[Footnote 29: An ant.]
One writ _Olivarius_ [12.]
Instead of Oliverus
In _Oliver's_ time; 'twas his will,
And his reason was good,
If well understood,
'Cause he varies from _verus_ still.
A man he did say [12.]
To his friend t'other day,
That his sow had lost her life;
Sayes one Mr _Howes_,
Now you talk of Sowes,
Pray, Neighbour, how does your wife?
[18.] _John Scot_ so famous for his Learning, sitting at Table with a
young Gallant, was by way of Jest, asked by him what Difference there
was between _Scot_ and _Sot_. To which he presently reply'd _Mensa
tantum_, that is the Tables breadth; for the other sat just over
against him.
=The Devil's Oak:=
or, his
Ramble in a Tempestuous Night, where he
hapn'd to Discourse with Men of
several Callings, of his own
Colour and Complexion.
_To a very pleasant new Tune._
And the Devil he was weather-beat, [21.]
and forc'd to take a tree,
Because the tempest was so great,
his way he could not see:
But under an Oak, instead of a Cloak,
he stood to keep himself dry,
And as he stood, a Fryer in his hood,
by chance came passing by.
And the Devil he made the Fryer afraid,
with that he crost his breast;
Then up the Devil started, the Fryer was faint-hearted,
you may wink and choose the best:
For I am the Fryer, and thou art the Lyar,
therefore thou art my father;
I am a Doctor of Evil, and thou art the Devil,
the worser I hold thee rather.
A Collier and his Cart came by,
which coals he did use to carry.
And as soon as the Devil he did him espy,
he caused him awhile to tarry:
For why, I do think that with thee I must drink,
and he called for a glass of claret;
Now I find by thy smell, that thou camest from hell,
and I fear thou hast stole my chariot.
[Illustration]
The next that came by was a Chimney Sweeper,
with poles, his brooms, and shackles,
What meanest thou, Man, the Devil he said,
that thou usest all those tackles?
I pry thee gentle Blade, tell me thy trade,
thy face it is so besmeared,
Hadst thou been so black, and no tools at thy back,
thou'dst have made me sore afraid.
Sir, a Chimney Sweeper I do profess,
although my trade's but mean,
It is for to sweep all dirty holes,
and to keep foul chimneys clean:
Then go to Hell, where the Devil doth dwell,
and he will give thee a piece,
God a mercy, old Dog, when I sheer my hog
then thou shalt have the fleece.
The next that came by was a tawny Moor,
and the Devil bid him see,
And he fleered on his tawny skin,
crying, Friend, art thou any kin to me?
For sure your skin doth resemble our kin,
therefore let us walk together,
And tell me how you do allow,
of this tempestuous weather.
Then the next that came by was a Gun-powder man,
which coales and brimstone sifted,
That in three quarters of a year,
himself had hardly shifted:
Then up the Devil rose, and snuffed his nose,
he could indure it no longer,
Cry'd, Away with this fume, 'tis not fit for the room
it will neither quench thirst, no, nor hunger.
I pre thee, gentle Blade, tell me thy trade,
as thou hast so strong a smell,
It is for to make gunpowder, he said,
for to blow the Devil out of Hell:
And if I had him here, his joynts would I tear,
he should neither scratch, no, nor bite,
I would plague the Devil, for all his evil,
and make him leave walking by night.
Then a Tinker worse than all the rest,
although he was not so black,
By chance as he came passing by,
with his budget on his back:
He cry'd, Yonder is the Devil's tree
let us see who dar'st go thither,
For it will sustain, from the wind and the rain,
or any tempestuous weather.
That shall be try'd, the Devil then he cry'd,
then up the Devil he did start,
Then the Tinker threw his staff about,
and he made the Devil to smart:
There against a gate, he did break his pate,
and both his horns he broke:
And ever since that time, I will make up my rhime,
it was called _The Devil's Oak_.
Printed for C. Bates,[F. 30] at the Sun and Bible, in Pye Corner.
[Footnote 30: Charles Bates, at this address (there were three
contemporary C. Bates), published in 1685.]
[4.] A Wine Cooper in _Mark Lane_ taking a Gentleman down into his
Cellar to Treat him, he, finding no Seat there for him to sit on,
asked him the reason of it; _Why_, says the Wine Cooper, _I will have
no Man here Drink longer than he can stand._
_To Doctor_ Sheerhood _how Sack makes one leane_. [16.]
I marveld much last day what you did meane,
To say that drinking Sack will make one leane;
But now I see, I then mistooke you cleane,
For my good neighbour _Marcus_, who I tro,
Feares fatness much, this drinke hath plyde him so,
That now except he leane he cannot goe.
Ha, gentle Doctor, now I see your meaning,
Sack will not leave one leane, 'twill leave him leaning.
_Tom's_ Ears being lost, [12.]
For fear of the frost
The haire very long he wears;
Then ask him why he will
Not cut it; he still
Says he dares not for his ears.
[8.] A debaucht Seaman being brought before a Justice of Peace upon
the account of swearing, was by the Justice commanded to deposit his
Fine in that behalf provided, which was two shillings, he thereupon
plucking out of his pocket a half crown, asked the Justice what was
the rate he was to pay for cursing, the Justice told him six pence,
quoth he then, A Pox take you all for a company of Knaves and fools,
and there's half a crown for you; I will never stand changing of mony.