Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, at Pye-Corner, near West
Smithfield.
[Footnote 206: This engraving is from another version, (C. 22
f. 2)/101]
_How_ Jacke _by playing of the Whiting got his dinner._
[105.] When the sicknesse was at Oxford, on a time _Scogin_ went out
of Oxford, and did lye at S. Bartholemewes by Oxford, and hee had
a poore scholler to dresse his meat: On a Friday he said to his
scholler, _Jacke_, here is twopence, goe to the market and buy me
three whitings, the which his scholler did; & when hee was come home,
_Scogin_ said, _Jacke_, goe seeth me a whiting to my dinner: _Jacke_
heard him say so, and deferred the time, thinking hee should fare ill
when that his master had but a whiting to dinner. At last _Scogin_
said, doth the fish play? _Jacke_ said, would you have one play
without a fellow? _Scogin_ said, _Jacke_ thou saist truth, put another
whiting into the pan. Then _Jacke_ prepared his fish to seeth them:
then _Scogin_ said, _Jacke_ doth the fish play now? _Jacke_ said, I
trow they be mad or else wood,[F. 207] for one doth fight with the
other, that I have much adoe to keepe them in the pan. Then said
_Scogin_, put the other whiting betwixt them to break the strife.
_Jacke_ was then glad, thinking he should get somewhat to dinner, and
sod[F. 208] the fish and had his part.
[Footnote 207: Or _wode_, mad or furious.]
[Footnote 208: Or _sodden_, boiled.]
[26.] One swore pretty largely too, That he knew a Hare, that after he
was taken and garbaged,[F. 209] did give the Dogs a chase for five or
six miles together; then they cry'd out all 'twas a loud lie. No, says
he, it can't be a loud lie, for it seems you don't allow it. Yes, says
they, we do allow it for a lie. But, says he, I do avow it for truth,
and thus it was, for the Hare being tied to a Huntsman's Saddle in a
string, it happened that the string slips, and the Hare in the string
hung down between the Horses Legs upon the Ground, and the Horse being
mettlesome, gallopt away with the Hare at his heels, and the Dogs
marcht after; but the truth was, the Man could not hold the Horse in:
Nay then, say they, this may be impossibly possible.
Another very sober Man told a story; That once he went a coursing
alone with a Grey hound Bitch, that was great with Whelp; and, having
started a Hare, it hapned the Hare went through a Muse[F. 210] in a
Hedg where a Carpenter had hid his Axe, lying it seems with the edge
upwards: and so the Hare being with young, in going through that Muse,
cut her belly with the edge of the Axe; and then out started 8 young
Hares, and began to run immediately; but the Grey hound Bitch suddenly
following the Hare through the very same Muse, by Chance Cut her belly
also, and out came Eight Whelps; which eight Whelps ran after the
eight young Hares, and the Bitch after the Old Hare and Kill'd em all.
Now, says he to them, Some nice people may take this for a lie, but
I think 'tis as probable as any of the rest, because the wonder is
greater: that there should be but just the number of Eight Whelps, and
Eight young Hares, and if true _Probatum est_.
[Footnote 209: Disembowelled.]
[Footnote 210: Or _muset_, a hole in a hedge through which
game passes. _Ed. Topsell_ in his "_Histore of_ foure footed
beasts," Lond. 1607, says, "But the good and aproved hounds,
on the contrary, when they have found the hare, make shew
thereof to the hunter, by running more speedily, and with
gesture of head, eyes, ears, and taile winding to the hares
_muse_," etc.]
[82.] Seigneur _Valdrino_ (paymaster to the Campe of _Alphonsus_ King
of _Aragon_) a man exquisite in Courtship and complement; as two or
three were at strife laying Wagers what Countryman he was; a blunt
bold Captaine asked what was the matter: why Captaine, said one, we
are laying a wager what Countriman my Lord Treasurer _Valdrino_ is:
Oh, said the Captaine, I can tell you that, I am sure he was borne in
the land of _Promise_, for I have served the King in his wars, these
seven yeers without pay, and ever when I petition to my Lord, he payes
me with no coyne but promises, which makes me half assured that hee is
that Countryman.
_Epitaph on a Scholler._
Forbeare, friend, t' unclaspe this booke [5.]
Onely in the fore front looke,
For in it have errours bin,
Which made th' authour call it in:
Yet know this 't shall have more worth,
At the second comming forth.
[17.] A Gardener being to be hang'd, his Wife came to give him his
last kiss at the Gallows: Out, you Baggage, says he, we are like to
thrive well at the years end; there can't be a meeting in all the
Country but you'll be sure to make one--Go home and weed, home and
weed.
There is a body without a heart, [91.]
That hath a tongue, and yet no head,
Buried it was, e're it was made;
And loude doth speake, and yet is dead.
_Resolution._ A Bell, which when it is cast, is founded in the ground.
[4.] Two young Oxford Scholars agreeing together to go into an
Adjacent Warren to steal some Rabbets; one being to watch, and not to
speak one word, and the other to Catch them. So they being come to the
place, he that watch'd, cried out, _Ecce Cuniculi multi_; which noise
frighted all the Rabbets into their Burrows, whereupon the other was
very angry with him; _Why_, says he, _who thought the Rabbets had
understood Latin?_
[94.] A Gentleman that bore a spleen to another, meets him in the
street, and gives him a Box on the Ear: The other, not willing to
strike again, puts it off with a jest, asking him whether it was in
jest or earnest? The other answers, It was in earnest: I am glad of
that, said he, for if it had been in jest, I should have been very
angry, for I do not like such jesting, and so pass'd away from him.
[103.] A Gentleman making Addresses of Love to a young Lady, often
swore by his Soul that he would be very faithful to her, in keeping
all the promises he had made; but however failing in some small
Matters, she was afraid to venture on to a Marriage, lest he should
deceive her in greater, which he perceiving, said they would pawn her
Soul upon it. Ay, Sir, replyed the Lady, you must find out a better
Pattern, for that has been dipt so often, theres nothing more to be
lent upon.
[17.] A Gentleman stammering much in his speech, laid down a winning
Card; and then said to his partner, Ho, sa, ay you now, was not this
Ca-ca-card pa-a-ssing we-we-well la-a-aid? Yes, says t'other, 'twas
well laid, but it needs not half that Cackling.
My Wife will be my Master:
_or_, The Married-mans Complaint against his unruly Wife.
The Tune is, _A Taylor is a Man_.
[Illustration]
As I was walking forth of late, [108.]
I heard a man complaining,
With that I drew me near to him,
to know the cause and meaning
Of this his sorrow, pain and grief,
which bred him such disaster;
Alas, quoth he, what shall I do,
my wife will be my master.
_But if ever I am a Widdower,
and another wife do marry,
I mean to keep her poor and bare,
and the purse I mean to carry._
If I should give her forty pound,
within her apron folding,
No longer then she's telling on't,
her tongue would ne'r leave scolding,
As _Esops_ Dog barkt at the Moon
thinking for to distast her,
So doth my wife scold without cause
and strives to be my master.
_But if ever &c._
Were I so strong as _Hercules_,
or wiser than _Apollo_,
Or had I _Icarus_ wings to flye,
my wife would after follow:
Or should I live as many years
as ever did King _Nestor_,
Yet do I greatly stand in fear
my wife would be my Master.
_But if ever &c._
I know no cause nor reason why,
that she with me should jangle,
I never gave her cause at all
to make her with me wrangle;
I please her still in what I may,
and do no jot distast her,
Yet she doth strive both night and day
always to be my Master.
_But if ever &c._
I every morning make a fire,
all which is done to ease her
I get a Nutmeg, make a toast,
in hope therewith to please her:
Of a Cup of nappy ale and spice,
of which she is first taster,
And yet this cros-grain'd quean will scold
and strive to be my Master.
_But if ever &c._
I wash the dishes, sweep the house,
I dress her wholsome dyet,
I humour her in every thing,
because I would be quiet:
Of every several dish of meat,
she'l surely be first taster,
And I am glad to pick the bones,
She is so much my Master.
_But if ever &c._
Sometimes she'l sit while day gives light,
in company with good fellows,
In Taverns and in bowsing Kens,
or in some pimping Ale house:
And when she comes home drunk at night,
though I do not distast her,
She'l fling, she'l throw, she'l scratch and bite,
and strive to be my Master.
_But if ever &c._
Her bed I make both soft and fine,
and put on smock compleatly,
Her shooes and stockings I pull off,
and lay her down most neatly:
I cover her, and keep her warm
for fear I should distast her,
I hug her kindly in my arms,
Yet still She'l be my Master.
_But if ever &c._
And when I am with her in bed
she doth not use me well sir,
She'l wring my nose, and pull my ears,
a pittiful case to tell sir;
And when I am with her in bed,
not meaning to molest her,
She'l kick me out at the bed's feet,
and so become my Master.
_But if ever &c._
And thus you hear how cruelly
my wife doth still abuse me,
At bed, at board, at noon and night
she always did misuse me:
But if I were a lusty Man
and able for to baste her,
Then would I surely use some means,
that she should not be my Master.
_But if ever &c._
You Batchelors that sweet-hearts have,
when as you are a Wooing,
Be sure you look before you leap,
for fear of your undoing:
The after wit is not the best,
and he that weds in hast sir,
May like to me, bewail his case,
if his wife do prove his Master.
_But if ever &c._
You Married Men that have good wives,
I wish you deal well by them,
For they more precious are than Gold,
if once you come to try them:
A good wife makes a husband glad,
then let him not distast her,
But a Scold will make a man run mad,
if once she proves his Master.
_But if ever &c._
Printed for _F. Coles_, _T. Vere_,[F. 211] _J. Wright_, _J. Clarke_,
_W. Thackeray_, and T. Passinger.
[Footnote 211: Published from 1648 to 1680.]
[93.] There was some halfe dozen of Citizens, that had oftentimes
beene solliciters to _George_ (_Peele_), he being a Master of Art
at the Universitie of Oxford, that hee would ride with them to the
Commencement, it being at Midsomer. _George_, willing to pleasure the
Gentlemen his friends, rode along with them. When they had rode the
better part of the way, they baited at a village called Stoken, five
miles from Wickham; good cheere was bespoken for dinner, and frolicke
was the company, all but _George_, who could not be in that pleasant
vaine that did ordinarilie possess him, by reason he was without mony:
but he had not fetcht fortie turnes about the Chamber, before his
noddle had entertained a conceit how to money himself with credit, and
yet glean it from some one of the Company. There was among them one
excellent Asse, a fellow that did nothing but friske up and down the
Chamber, that his money might bee heard chide in his pocket: this
fellow had _George_ observed, and secretly convay'd his gilt Rapier
and Dagger into another Chamber, and there closely hid it: that done,
he called up the Tapster, and upon his cloake borrowes 5 shillings
for an houre or so, till his man came, (as he could fashion it well
enough:) so much money he had, and then who more merry than _George!_
Meate was brought up, they set themselves to dinner, all full of
mirth, especially my little foole, who dranke not of the conclusion
of their feast: dinner ended, much prattle past, every man begins to
buckle to his furniture: among whom this Hichcock missed his Rapier:
at which all the Company were in a maze; he, besides his wits, for he
had borrowed it of a speciall friend of his, and swore he had rather
spend twenty Nobles. This is strange, quoth _George_, it should
be gone in this fashion, none beeing heere but our selves, and the
fellowes of the house, who were examined, but no Rapier could be heard
of: but _George_ in a pittifull chafe, swore it should cost him fortie
shillings, but hee would know what was become of it, if Art could
do it; and with that he caused the Oastler to saddle his Nag, for
_George_ would ride to a Scholler, a friend of his, that had skill
in such matters. O, good M. _Peele_, quoth the fellow, want no money,
heere is forty shillings, see what you can doe, and, if you please,
I'le ride along with you. Not so, quoth _George_, taking his fortie
shillings, I'le ride alone, and be you as merry as you can till my
returne. So _George_ left them, and rode directly to Oxford; there he
acquaints a friend of his with all the circumstances, who presently
tooke Horse, and rode along with him to laugh at the Jest. When they
came backe, _George_ tels them he has brought one of the rarest men
in England: whom they with much complement bid welcome. He, after a
distracted countenance, and strange words, takes this Bulfinch by the
wrist, and carried him into the privy, and there willed him to put in
his head, but while he had written his name and told forty: which he
willingly did: that done, the Scholler asked him what he saw? By my
faith, sir, I smelt a villainous sent, but I saw nothing. Then I have,
quoth he, and with that directed him where his Rapier was: saying, it
is just North East, inclosed in Wood, neere the earth: for which they
all made diligent search, till _George_ who had hid it under a settle,
found it, to the comfort of the fellow, the joy of the Company, and
the eternall credit of his friend, who was entertained with Wine
and Sugar; and _George_ redeemed his Cloake, rode merrily to Oxford,
having Coine in his pocket, where this Loach spares not for any
expence, for the good fortune he had in the happy finding of his
Rapier.
[94.] One said the Midwifes Trade, of all Trades, was most
commendable, because they lived not by the hurts of other men as
Surgeons do; nor by the falling out of friends, as Lawyers do; but by
the agreement betwixt party and party.
[105.] On a time Scogin did send Jacke to Oxford to market, to buy a
penny worth of fresh herring. Scogin said, bring foure herrings for a
penny, or else bring none. Jack could not get foure herrings but three
for his penny; and when he came home, Scogin said, how many herrings
hast thou brought? and Jacke said, three herrings, for I could not get
foure for a penny. Scogin said he would none of them: Sir, said Jacke,
then will I, and here is your penny againe. When dinner time was come
then Jack did set bread and butter before his Master, and rosted his
herrings, and sate downe at the lower end of the table and did eate
the herrings. Scogin said, let mee have one of thy herrings, and thou
shalt have another of mee another time. Jacke said, if you will have
one herring, it shall cost you a penny. What, said Scogin, thou will
not take it on thy Conscience: Jacke said, my conscience is such,
that you get not a morsell here, except I have my penny again. Thus
contending together, Jacke had made an end of his herrings: A Master
of Arts of Oxford, one of Scogins fellowes, did come to see Scogin,
and when Scogin had espied him, hee said to Jacke, set up the bones of
the herrings before me: sir, said Jacke, they shall cost you a penny.
Then said Scogin, what, wilt thou shame me? No, sir, said Jacke, give
me my penny again, and you shal have up the bones, or else I will tell
all. Scogin then cast down a penny to Jacke, and Jacke brought up to
Scogin the herring bones: and by this time the Master of Arts did
come in to Scogin, and Scogin bad him welcome, saying, if you had come
sooner you should have had fresh herrings to dinner.
[26.] A confident bold Fellow at a _Nisi prius_ in the Country, having
a Trial then in Law, and fearing that the Trial would go against him,
said to the Judge, My Lord, I do not desire your Sentence now, but
only your Opinion at the present; and I will wait upon your Lordship
for Judgment at some other time. Well, says the Judge, if you'd only
have my Opinion now, why then my Opinion is, That if you had had
Judgment to be hang'd seven years ago, the Country would have been
more quiet than it is now. Well, my Lord, says he, if this be your
Opinion, then your Judgement and mine doth not suit at all, so that
I'le have nothing to do with you, but go to another Judge.
Poor _Robin's_ Prophesie,
_or_
The merry Conceited Fortune-Teller.
Although the Poet makes no large Apology,
Some insight he may have into Ass-trology,
Then buy this Song, and give your Judgment of it,
And then perhaps you'l say he's a Small Prophet
For he can tell when things will come to pass,
That you will say is strange as ever was.
Tune of, _The Delights of the Bottle_ &c.[F. 212] With Allowance. Ro.
L'Estrange.[F. 213]
All you that delight to hear a new song, [109.]
Or to see the world turn'd topsie turvy e're long,
Come give good attention unto these my Rhimes,
And never complain of the hardness of times,
For all will be mended, by this you may find,
_And Golden days come, when the Devil is blind_.
And first for the Shopkeeper, this I can tell,
That after long trusting, all things will be well,
The Gallant will pay him, what ever's his due
And make him rejoyce when he finds it is true:
False weights, & false measures, he then will not mind,
_But honest will prove, when the Devil is blind_.
The Country Client that comes up to Term,
Likewise from this subject, good news he may learn,
A benefit which he shall never more leese
For Lawyers hereafter will plead without Fees:
You shall have Law freely, if you be inclin'd,
_Without any charge, when the Devil is blind_.
The Usurer open his Coffers will throw,
And break all his Locks both above and below,
He'l burn all his Parchments, and cancel his Bands,
And freely return all his Morgaged Lands;
Young heirs will be glad for to see them so kind,
_But that will not be till the Devil is blind_.
[Illustration]
The Learned Phisitian who valued his wealth,
Will now be more chary of all peoples health,
And make it his business howe're he doth thrive,
To pussle his brains for to keep men alive:
Nor Mountebank Bills in the Streets you shall find,
_For they'l keep in their lies, when the Devil is Blind_.
Your Lady of pleasure that us'd for to rant,
And Coach it about with her lusty Gallant,
Will then become modest, and find a new way
To live like a Nun in a Cloyster all day:
Her Pride, and her painting she never will mind,
_But seem like a Saint when the Devil is blind_.
Yea the Bullies themselves that did use for to rore,
And spent great estates in good wine and a w----
Shall leave off their gameing, and fairly take up,
And scarcely will tast of the Grape half a Cup,
But leave good Canary, and Claret behind,
_Small Tipple to Drink, when the Devil is blind_.
The Hecks[F. 214] and the Padders[F. 215] who used to prey,
And venture abroad for no purchase, no pay,
Shall work for their livings, and find a new trade,
And never more travel like Knights of the Blade;
Let Newgate stand empty, and then you will find
_All this will prove true, when the Devil is blind_.
All Trades men will strive for to help one another,
And friendly will be, like to Brother and Brother,
And keep up their prices that money may flow,
Their charge to maintain and to pay what they owe:
Then two of a trade shall agree, if you mind,
_And all will be well when the Devil is blind_.
The Tapsters no more shall their Ticklers froth,
No Coffee men blind us with their Ninny broth,
Full measures of liquor shall pass through the Land,
And men without money the same shall command;
You'l say 'tis a wonder when this you do find,
_And that you will sure when the Devil is blind_.
Not onely the City shall find this welfare,
But throughout the Country the same they shall share,
No cheating and couzening tricks shall be us'd,
For by such deceit we have all been abus'd;
Those men who of late with _Duke Humphrey_ have din'd
_With plenty shall flow, when the Devil is blind_.
Then let us be merry and frolick amain,
Since the golden world is returning again,
We shall be all Gallants, as sure as a Gun,
When this work is finisht that's hardly begun;
Then Poets in both pockets Guinneys[F. 216] shall find,
_And purchase estates when the Devil is blind_.