[Footnote 59: Same as Francis Coles (see "The Great Boobee").]
[26.] One coming into _New-Market_ to buy some Butter, and there
cheapened some; and the woman askt. 10d a pound: then he smelt to it;
_What_, says she, _do you smell to it, it seems you do not like my
Butter: Yes_, says he, _but 'tis no better than it should be. Then
you'll buy none_, says she: _No_, says he, _for a reason best known
to myself_. Then she askt him the reason, and with much importunity he
told her, 'twas because he had no Money: _Well then_, says the Woman,
_take it for nothing, so you'll pay me for it next time you come_.
Sirrah, you are base [12.]
To spit in my face,
That he vow'd, he wou'd him kill;
Sir, I pray forbear,
I thought no hurt here,
Nay, I'le tread it out, if you will.
_A contest at the_ Hoop-Tavern _between two Lawyers_.
Two _Lawyers_ had of late a _Tavern_ Jarr [25.]
And as 'twas made, 'twas try'd at _Bacchus_ Bar;
The _Jury_ Pints and Quarts, and Pottles were,
Each of a quick and understanding Eare,
Brought in their verdict, which no sooner pass'd
But that the Lawyers they themselves did cast.
Sir _Burdeux_ Claret, White, Signiour Canary,
Sir _Reynold Rhenish_, with a tertiorary,
Whipt up my Youths (& they ye know were able)
This into th' Chimny, that beneath the Table.
Where They lay both, instead of a demur,
So foxt, that neither, in the case, could stir,
They might have else a _Writ of Error_ got,
But, O the Error of the Pottle Pot!
Both over-thrown, and on their backs now laid,
Let the Sute fall, and their own charges paid.
And thus, though _Westminster_ makes _Clients_ stoop,
The _Lawyer's_ Case was alter'd at the _Hoop_.
[4.] A Conceited Scholar that was lately come from _Oxford_, drinking
with two or three Gentlemen, at the _Mitre Tavern_ in the _Poultrey_,
was very brisk and airy, and would needs be forming of Sylogismes &c.
One wise one was this, He bid them fill two Glasses of Wine, which
they did: now: says he, I will prove those two Glasses to be three,
thus, Is not here one, says he? Yes, says the Gentleman. And here
another, that's two, says he; Yes, says the Gentleman again. Why,
then, says he, one and two is three, so 'tis done. _Very well_, says
the Gentleman, _I'll have one Glass, and that Gentleman shall have the
other, and you shall have the third for your pains in finding it out_.
_Of inclosing a Common._
A Lord, that purpos'd for his more availe, [6.]
To compass in a Common with a rayle,
Was reckoning with his friend about the Cost,
And charge of every rayle, and every post:
But he, (that wisht his greedy humour crost)
Said, Sir, provide you Posts, and without fayling,
Your neighbours round about will find you rayling.
Some said, Sir, you keep [12.]
Such a gaping in your sleep,
He told 'em then they did lye all;
For a looking glass he'd buy,
At his bed's-feet to lye,
On purpose to make a tryal.
[4.] A Scholar of _Oxford_ having wore out the Heels of his Boots,
brought them in his hands to a Cobler, and shewing him them, said, _O
thou curious Artificer, that hast by no small pains and study, arrived
to the perfection of that exquisite art of repairing the defects of
old decayed Calcuments, affix me two Semicircles to my Suppeditors_.
The Cobler stared upon him, as if he would have looked him through;
but a little recovering himself, said, _Before George, Sir, I
understand not your hard Language: but if I put on two Heel pieces,
I'll have a Groat for them_.
The same Scholar being asked by a Porter for a Gentleman's Chamber in
the Colledg, he directed him thus, _you must crucifie the Quadrangle,
and ascend the Grades, and you will find him perambulating in his
Cubicle, near the Fenester_. Pray Sir, says the Porter, what is that
_Fenester_? _It is_, replies the Scholar, _the Diaphonous part of
an Edifice, erected for the Introduction of Illumination_, which so
amazed the Porter, that at first he did not know what to think, till
recovering himself, he went and enquired of another, who gave him
plainer directions, in more intelligible terms.
_A Caution for Scolds_
or
A True Way of Taming a Shrew.
To the tune of _Why are my eyes still flowing_.
This may be printed R.P.
A Noble Man he Marry'd with a cruel Scold, [30.]
Who in her humours would ne'r be controul'd,
So that he was almost a weary of his Life,
By the cross humours of his froward Wife:
Although he shewed himself exceeding kind,
Yet she was still of a turbulent mind;
Husband and Servants her Fury must feel,
For in their Ears she would ring them a Peal.
When any Friend approach'd the presence of her Lord,
By this vile Shrew they were strangely abhor'd;
With cruel Frowns and Railings she would them salute
Tho' they were Persons of worthy Repute;
All was a case for she woud have her Will,
And the whole House with Confusion she'd fill;
So that for fear of the heat of her Fray
They have been forc'd to run packing away.
It was his chance to make a worthy noble feast,
Inviting full forty Couple at least,
Both Lords and Earls, with vertuous Ladies of high fame,
Who in true Friendship accordingly came:
All sorts of dainties he then did prepare,
No cost nor charge in the least he did spare;
But ere they could to their Banqueting fall,
Sirs, you shall hear how she welcom'd them all.
[Illustration]
When she beheld the Costly Dishes of Rich Meat,
This Shrew had not the Stomach to Eat,
But did cry out, I shall be Ruined at this rate,
This is enough to consume an Estate:
Before she any more words did reply
She made both Bottles and Dishes to flye;
Both Friends and Husband she there did abuse,
Asking him how he dare be so profuse?
Like Thunder loud, her voice she straight began to raise,
Which made the Guests to stand all in a maze,
Who never saw the like in all their lives before,
Dishes of Meat they lay strow'd on the floor;
Thus in disorder they all went their way,
Each one was glad they were out of the fray;
Then said her Husband did ever Man know,
Any poor Mortal so plagu'd with a Shrow.
Now the next day he to a skilful Doctor went,
Promising that he would give him content,
If he could cure the cause of a Distracted Wife
Which almost made him a weary of his Life;
Yes, quoth the Doctor, i'le do it ne'r fear,
Bring her, for now 'tis the Spring of the Year;
I'le take the Lunacy out of her Brains,
Or else I wont have a Groat for my pains.
Then home he went and sent her thither out of hand,
Now when the Shrow, she did well understand
All their intent, she cal'd the Doctor sneaking knave;
Now when he see she began for to Rave,
Straightways the Doctor did bind her in Bed,
Leting her Blood, likewise shaving her Head;
Sirrah, said she, I would have you to know,
That you shall suffer for serving me so.
Madam, said he, I know you are beside your Wits,
But I will soon bring you out of those Fits;
I'le cut your Tongue, and when a Gallon you have bled,
'Twill cure that violent Noise in your Head;
Pray Sir, said she, don't afflict me so sore,
I'le ne'r offend my sweet Husband no more;
Thus by sharp Usage and keeping her low,
He had the fortune to Conquer the Shrow.
After some time, he came to see his Wife at last,
When she begg'd pardon for all that was past;
Saying, her Fits for evermore she would refrain,
If he'd be pleas'd to receive her again;
My former Follies I pray now forgive,
Ile ne'r offend you no more while I live:
Then in much love they both homeward did go
Thus has he made a sweet Wife of a Shrow.