LONDON

Printed by M. S. for _Thomas Jenner_, and are to be sold at his Shop

at the South Entrance of the Royal Exchange 1660.

[Footnote 175: _I.e._ foxed or drunk.]

[93.] _George_ (_Peele_) was not so merry at London with his Capons

and Claret, as poore _Anthony_ the Barber was sorrowfull at Brainford

for the losse of his Lute, & therefore determined to come to London

to seeke out _George Peele_, which by the meanes of a Kinsman that

_Anthony Nit_ had in London, his name was _Cuts or Feats_, a Fellow

that had good skill in tricks on the Cards, and he was well acquainted

with the place where _George's_ common abode was, and for kindred sake

he directed the Barber where he should have him, which was at a blinde

Ale house in Sea-cole Lane.[F. 176] There he found _George_ in a

greene Jerkin, a Spanish platter fashioned Hat, all alone with a Pecke

of Oysters. The Barber's heart danc'd within him for joy he had so

happily found him; he gave him the time of the day. _George_ not a

little abashed at the sight of the Barber, yet went not to discover

it openly; he that at all times had a quicke invention, was not now

behind hand to entertaine my Barber, who knew for what his comming

was. _George_ thus saluted him, My honest Barber, quoth _George_,

welcome to London, I partly know your businesse, you come for your

Lute, doe you not? Indeed Sir, quoth the Barber, for that is my

comming. And beleeve me, quoth _George_, you shall not lose your

labour, I pray you stand to, and eat an oyster, and I'le go with you

presently: For a Gentleman in the Citie of great worship, borrowed it

of me for the use of his Daughter, that plays exceeding well, and had

a great desire to have the Lute; but, Sir, if you will goe along

with me to the Gentlemans house, you shall have your Lute with great

satisfaction, for had you not come, I assure you I had sent to you;

for you must understand that all that was done at Brainford among us

mad Gentlemen, was but a jest, and no otherwise. Sir, I think not any

otherwise, quoth the Barber, but I would desire your worship, that

as you had it of me in lone, so in kindnesse you would helpe me to it

againe. What else, quoth _George_, Ile goe with thee presently, even

as I am, for I came from hunting this morning, and should I go up to

the certain Gentlemen above, I should hardly get away. I thank you

Sir, quoth the Barber, so on goes _George_ with him in his greene

Jerkin, a wand in his hand very pretty, till he came almost to the

Alderman's House, where, making a sodaine stay, Afore God, quoth

_George_, I must crave thy pardon at this instant, for I have

bethought myselfe, should I go as I am, it would be imagined I had had

some of my Lords hounds out this morning, therefore I'le take my leave

of thee, and meet thee where thou wilt about one of the Clock. Nay

good Sir, quoth the Barber, goe with me now, for I purpose, God

willing, to be at Brainford tonight. Saist thou so, quoth _George_,

why then I'le tell thee what thou shalt doe, thou art here a stranger,

and altogether unknowne, lend me thy Cloake and thy Hat, and doe thou

put on my greene Jerken, and I'le goe with thee directly along. The

Barber, unwilling to leave him untill he had his Lute, yeelded to

the change. So when they came to the Gentleman's porch he put on

_George's_ greene Jerken and his Spanish Hat: and he the Barbers

Cloake, and his Hat; either of them being thus fitted, _George_ knocks

at the doore, to whom the Porter bids heartily welcome, for _George_

was well knowne, who at that time had all the oversight of the

Pageants, he desires the Porter to bid his friend welcome, for he is a

good fellow and a keeper, Master Porter, one that at his pleasure can

bestow a haunch of Venison on you: Marry that can I, quoth the Barber.

I thank you Sir, answered the Porter, Master _Peele_, my Master is

in the Hall, pleaseth it you to walke in? With all my heart, quoth

_George_, in the meane time let my friend beare you company. That he

shall, Master _Peele_, quoth the Porter, and if it please him he shall

take a simple dinner with me. The Barber gives him harty thankes,

nothing doubting Master _Peele_ any way, seeing him knowne, and

himselfe so welcome, fell in Chat with the Porter. _George Peele_ goes

directly to the Alderman, who now is come into the Court in the eye of

the Barber, where _George_ after many complaints, drawes a black

paper out of his bosome, & making action to the Barber, reads to the

Alderman as followeth, I humbly desire your worship to stand my friend

in a sleight matter; yonder hard favoured knave, that sits by your

Worship's Porter, hath dog'd me to arrest me, and I had no other

meanes but to take your Worship's house for shelter; the occasion

is but triviall, onely for stealing of a piece of flesh, myselfe

consorted with three or foure gentlemen of good fashion, that would

not willingly have our names come in question. Therefore this is my

boone, that your Worship would let one of your servants let me out

at the Garden doore, and I shall think myselfe much indebted to your

Worship. The kind Gentleman, little dreaming of _George Peele's_

deceit, took him into the Parlor, gave him a brace of Angels, & caused

one of his servants to let _George_ out at the Garden doore, which was

no sooner opened, but _George_ made way for the Barber seeing him

any more, and all the way he went, could not choose but laugh at his

knavish conceit; how he had guld the simple Barber, who sat all this

while with the Porter, blowing of his nayles; to whom came this fellow

that let _George_ out. You whorson Keeperly Rascall, quoth the fellow,

dare you come any honest Gentleman in my Masters house? Not I, so God

helpe me, quoth the Barber, I pray Sir where is the Gentleman Master

_Peele_ that came along with me? Farre enough, quoth the Fellow, for

your comming neere him, he is gone out at the Garden doore. Garden

doore? quoth the Barber, Sir, I am no Keeper, I am quite undone: I am

a Barber dwelling at Brainford, and, with weeping teares, up and told

him how _George_ had used him. The servant goes in & tels his Master;

which when he heard, he could not but laugh at the first: yet in pitty

of the poore Barber, he gave him twenty shillings towards his losse.

The Barber, sighing, tooke it, and towards Brainford home he goes, and

whereas hee came from thence in a new Cloake and a faire Hat, hee went

home weeping in an old Hat, and a greene Jerken.

The accompanying illustration is taken from a tract, in itself of no

literary merit or humour, but the picture is amusing, representing a

"Brown[F. 177] Dozen of Drunkards, ali-ass Drink-haros, Jocoseriously

descanted to our wine drunk, wrath drunk, and zeale drunk staggering

times."

[99.] [Illustration]

[Footnote 176: This lane was between Snow Hill and Fleet

Lane.]

[Footnote 177: Most probably meant for a _round_ dozen, or

baker's dozen, as there are thirteen depicted and thirteen

characters in the tract.]

[94.] A drunken fellow returning home towards evening, found his wife

hard at her spinning; she reproving him for his ill husbandry, and

commending herself for her good huswifery, he told her that she had no

great cause to chide, for as she had been spinning, he came home all

the way reeling.

There was a man bespake a thing, [91.]

Which when the owner home did bring,

He that made it did refuse it,

And he that bought it would not use it,

And he that hath it doth not know,

Whether he hath it, I, or no.

_Resolution_ A Coffin bought by another for a dead man.

[86.] One affirmed that he had been in a certain Country, where their

Bees were as big as our Sheep. This impudent lye one began to

examine, and therefore said, sure then the Bee-hives must be of a huge

bignesse; No, saith the other, they are no bigger than ours; How then

can they get in? said one. This bogled[F. 178] the lyar like a Mouse

in pitch; at last he answered, let them whom it concerns look to that.

[Footnote 178: Puzzled, bothered.]

A Health to all Good-Fellowes:

or

The good Companions Arithmaticke.

To the Tune of, _To drive the cold Winter away_.

Be merry my hearts, and call for your quarts,

and let no liquor be lacking,

We have gold in store, we purpose to roare,

untill we set care a packing.

Then Hostis make haste, and let no time waste,

let every man have his due,

To save shooes and trouble, bring in the pots double,

for he that made one made two.

I'le drink up my drinke, and speak what I thinke,

strong drinke will make us speake truely,

We cannot be termed all drunkards confirmed,

so long as we are not unruly.

Wee'le drinke and be civill, intending no evill,

if none be offended at me,

As I did before, so I'le adde one more,

and he that made two made three.

[Illustration]

The greedy Curmudgin sits all the day snudging[F. 179]

at home with browne bread and small beare,

To Coffer up wealth, he starveth himselfe,

scarce eats a good meale in a yeare.

But I'le not do so, how ere the world go

so long as I have money in store

I scorne for to faile, go fil us more Ale,

for he that made three made four.

Why sit you thus sadly, because I call madly,

I meane not to leave in the lurch,

My reckoning Ile pay ere I go away,

else hang me as high as a Church.

Perhaps you will say, this is not the way,

they must pine that in this world will thrive,

No matter for that, wee'le laugh and be fat,

for he that made foure made five.

To those my good friends my love so extends,

I cannot truely expresse it;

When with you I meet, your words are so sweet,

I am unwilling to misse it.

I hate all base slaves that their money saves,

and all those that use base tricks,

For with joviall blades, I'm merry as the Maids,

for he that made five made six.

Then drink about round till sorrow be dround,

and let us sing hey downe a derry,

I cannot endure, to sit thus demure,

for hither I came to be merry.

Then plucke up a good heart before we depart,

with my Hostesse we will make it even,

For I am set a madding, and still will be adding,

for he that made six made seven.

Sad mellancholly will bring us to folly,

and this is deaths principall magent, (_sic_)

But this course I will take, it never shall make

me looke otherwise than an agent.

And in more content my time shall be spent,

and I'le pay every man his right,

Then hostesse go fill, and stand not so still,

for he that made seven made eight.

At home I confesse, with my wife honest _Besse_,

I practise good husbandry well,

I follow my calling, to keep me from falling;

my neighbours about me that dwell

Wil praise me at large for maintaining my charge,

but when I to drinking incline

I scorne for to shrinke, go fetch us more drinke,

for he that made eight made nine.

Then while we are here, wee'le drinke Ale & Beer,

and freely our money wee'le spend,

Let no man take care, for paying his share,

if need be I'le pay for my friend.

Then Hostesse make haste, and let no time waste,

you're welcome all, kind Gentlemen,

Never fear to Carowse, while there is beere in the house,

for he that made nine made ten.

Then Hostesse be quicker, and bring us more liquor,

and let no attendance be missing,

I cannot content me, to see the pot empty,

a full cup is well worth the kissing.

Then Hostesse go fetch us some, for till you do come,

we are of all joyes bereaven,

You know what I mean, make haste, come again,

for he that made ten, made eleven.

With merry solaces, quite voyd of all malice,

with honest good fellowes thats here,

No cursing nor swearing, no staring nor tearing,

amongst us do seeme to appeare.

When we have spent, all to labour we fall,

for a living wee'le dig, or wee'le delve,

Determin'd to be both bounteous and free,

he that made eleven, made twelve.

Now I think it is fit and most requisit,

to drinke a health to our wives,

The which being done, wee'le pay and be gone,

strong drinke all our wits now deprives.

Then, Hostesse, let's know the summe that we owe,

twelve pence there is for certain

Then fill t'other pot, and here's money for't

for he that made twelve made thirteene.