"Stoope Charles."]
The date of this curious political caricature is 14th July 1651.
It must be remembered that Charles II. was crowned at Scone on 1st
January 1651, and this satire deals with the behaviour of the Scots
towards their young monarch. It is too long to give _in extenso_,
but the following will give a fair idea of its tenor. Above the
illustration are printed these lines:--
_Jockey._ "I. Jockey turne the stone of all your plots,
For none turns faster than the turne-coat Scots
_Presbytor._ We for our ends did make thee King, be sure
Not to rule us, we will not that endure.
_King._ You deep dissemblers, I know what you doe,
And for revenges sake, I will dissemble too."
On either side of the print is a long poem, of which I will only give
the commencement:--
"This Embleme needs no learned Exposition,
The World knows well enough the sad condition
Of Regall Power, and Prerogative
Dead, and dethron'd in _England_, now alive
In _Scotland_, where they seem to love the Lad,
If hee'l be more obsequious than his Dad.
And Act according to Kirk Principles,
More subtile than were Delphick Oracles.
For let him lye, dissemble, kill and slay,
Hee's a good Prince that will the Kirk obey," etc. etc.
[110.] Upon a new yeares day Maister _Hobson_ sitting at dinner in a
Poets Company, or one, as you may tearme him, a writer of histories,
there came a poore man and presented him a cople of orringes, which
hee kindly tooke as a new yeares guift, and gave the poore man for the
same, an angell of goold, and there upon gave it to his wife to lay it
up among his other jewels, considering that it had likewise cost him
an Angel, the which she did. The Poet sitting by, and marking the
bounty of Ma. _Hobson_ for so small a matter, he went home, and
devised a booke contayning forty sheets of paper, which was halfe
a yeare in writing, and came and gave it to Maister _Hobson_ in
dedication, and thought in his mind, that he, in recompencing the
poore man so much for an orringe, would yeeld far more recompence for
his booke, being so long in studying. Maister _Hobson_ tooke the Poets
booke thankfully, and perseving he did it onely for his bounty shewed
for the orringe given him: willed his wife to fetch the said orringe,
which he gave to the Poet, being then almost rotten, saying, here is
a jewel which cost me a thousand times the worth in gould, therefore
I think thou art well satisfied for thy bookes dedication: the poet
seeing this, went his way all a shamed.
[26.] A deaf Man was selling Pears at the Towns end in _S^t Gileses_,
and a Gentleman riding out o' th' Town, askt him what 'twas a Clock?
He said Ten a Penny, Master: Then he askt him agen what 'twas a Clock?
He told 'em indeed he could afford no more. You Rogue, says he, I'll
kick you about the streets. Then says the man, _Sir, if you won't,
another will_.
[4.] A woman coming to a Parson, desir'd him to preach a Funeral
Sermon on her Son that was lately dead; the Parson promised her to do
it; but she desiring to know the Price of his Sermon; he told her it
was Twenty Shillings. Twenty Shillings! says she, An Ass spoke for an
Angel, and won't you speak under Twenty Shillings? The Parson being
a little netled at her, told her she was better fed than taught. Sir,
says she, 'tis very true; for my Husband feeds me, and You teach me.
[93.] _George_ (_Peele_) was at Bristow, and there staying somewhat
longer than his coyne would last him, his Palfrey that should bee his
Carrier to London, his head was growne so big, that he could not
get him out of the stable; it so fortuned at that instant, certaine
Players came to the Towne, and lay at that Inne where _George Peele_
was: to whom _George_ was well knowne, being in that time an excellent
Poet, and had acquaintance of most of the best Players in England;
from the triviall sort hee was but so so; of which these were, only
knew _George_ by name, no otherwise. There was not past three of the
Companie come with the Carriage, the rest were behinde, by reason of
a long Journey they had; so that night they could not enact; which
_George_ hearing, had presently a Stratageme in his head, to get his
Horse free out of the stable, and Money in his Purse to beare his
charges up to London. And thus it was: Hee goes directly to the Maior,
tels him he was a Scholler and a Gentleman, and that he had a certaine
Historie of the Knight of the Rodes; and withall, how Bristow was
first founded, and by whom, and a briefe[F. 237] of all those that
before him had succeeded in Office in that worshipfull Citie: desiring
the Maior, that he, with his presence, and the rest of his Brethren,
would grace his labors. The Maior agreed to it, gave him leave, and
withall appointed him a place: but for himselfe, hee could not be
there, being in the evening: but bade him make the best benefit he
could of the Citie; and very liberally gave him an Angell, which
_George_ thankfully receives, and about his businesse he goes, got
his Stage made, his Historey cryed, and hyred the Players Apparell,
to furnish out his Shew, promising to pay them liberally; and withall
desired them they would favour him so much, as to gather him his money
at the doore; (for hee thought it his best course to imploy them, lest
they should spie out his knaverie; for they have perillous heads.)
They willingly yeeld to doe him any kindnes that lyes in them; in
briefe, carry their apparell in the Hall, place themselves at the
doore, where _George_ in the meane time, with the tenne shillings he
had of the Maior, delivered his Horse out of Purgatorie, and carries
him to the Townes end, and there placeth him, to be ready at his
comming. By this time the Audience were come, and some forty shillings
gathered, which money _George_ put in his purse, and putting on one of
the Players Silke Robes, after the trumpet had sounded thrice, out he
comes, makes low obeysance, goes forward with his Prologue, which was
thus:
A trifling Toy, a Jest of no account, pardie.
The Knight, perhaps, you think for to bee I:
Think on so still; for why, you know that thought is free,
Sit still a while, I'le send the Actors to ye.
Which being said, after some fire workes that hee had made of purpose,
threw out among them, and downe stayres goes he, gets to his Horse,
and so with fortie shillings to London; leaves the Players to answer
it; who when the Jest was knowne, their innocence excused them, beeing
as well gulled as the Maior and the Audience.
[Footnote 237: A list or catalogue.]
[82.] There was a faire ship of two hundred tuns lying at the Tower
Wharfe at _London_, where a Countryman passing by, most earnestly
looked on the said ship, and demanded how old shee was. One made
answer that she was a yeare old. Good Lord blesse me, said the
Countryman, is shee so big growne in one yeere, what a greatnesse will
shee bee by the time she comes to my age?
[82.] Twelve Schollers riding together, one of them said, my masters,
let us ride faster. Why? quoth another, methinks wee ride a good pace,
I'le warrant it is foure mile an hour. Alas, said the first, what is
foure mile an houre amongst us all?
[17.] A patient man coming home from work, but it seems did not bring
home to his Shrewish Wife so much money as she expected; with that
she flew about his ears, and did so jole him! Good wife, says he,
be quiet, for I would willingly wear my bands without cuffs, if you
please.
[105.] On a night _Scogin_ and his chamber-fellow, and two or three
of the Bishops servants being merrily disposed, consult how they might
have good cheere and pay no money, and every one invented a way as
they thought best. At last _Scogin_ said, I have invented a cleanly
shift. At the signe of the Crowne against Peter's Church, is a new
Tapster, which ere this hath not seene any of us, and he is also
purblind, so that if he see us hereafter, he cannot know us. Therefore
wee will goe thither and make good cheere, and when we have a
reckoning, we will contend who shall pay all; then will I say to avoid
the contention, that the Tapster shall be blinded, and we wil run
round about him, and whosoever he catcheth first, let him pay for all,
and so we may escape away. Every man liked _Scogin's_ device best, so
in conclusion they came thither, and had good cheere, for they spared
no cost: so that in the end their reckoning drew to ten Shillings.
Then as _Scogin_ had devised afore, they did. The Tapster was blinded,
so they ran round about him, and first _Scogin_ got out, and then
another, so that at last they got all away, and left the tapster
groping in every place about the house for him that should pay the
shot. The master of the house being in a chamber next to the place
where they were, and hearing the stamping that they made, came in to
see what they did, whom the Tapster caught in his armes, saying, Sir,
you must pay the reckoning. Marry, said his Master, so I thinke I must
indeed, for here is no body else to pay it. Then the Tapster and his
Master sought and enquired for _Scogin_ and the rest, but they could
neither find them, nor heare newes of them.
[94.] Hangmen practice their cunning for the most part upon good
natur'd men, because they are ready to forgive, before the hurt be
attempted.
[4.] A Parson who had not much Wit to spare, seeing his Son play
roguish Tricks, Why, Sirrah, said he, did you ever see me do so, when
I was a Boy, as you are?
[4.] A Precise Fellow hearing much swearing in a Bowling Green, said,
For Shame Gentlemen, forbear, it is God's great mercy the Bowling
Green doth not fall on your Heads.
=Nick and Froth;=
or
The Good-fellows Complaint for want of full Measure.
Discovering the Deceits, and Abuses of Victuallers, Tapsters,
Ale Drapers; and all the rest of the Society of Drunkard
Makers, by filling their drink in false Flaggons, Pimping
Tankerds, Cans call'd Ticklers; Rabbits, Jugs, and short
Quarterns, To the Grand Abuse of the Society of Good
Fellowship.
_Good Fellows Drinks their Liquor without flinching;
Then why should knavish Tapsters use such pinching._
Tune of, We'l Drink this Old Ale no more, no more.
All you y^t are Free-men of Ale-Drapers Hall, [124.]
And Tapsters wherever you be,
Be sure you be ready to come at my call,
And your Knavery here you shall see.
A Knot of Good-fellows we are here inclin'd,
To Challenge you out if you dare,
A very sharp Tryal you're like to find,
Although it be at your own Bar.
Your Cheats and Abuses we long did abide,
But times are so wondrous hard,
That Loosers may speak, it cannot be deny'd,
Of our Measure we have been debar'd.
But now we'l show you a trick (you knaves)
And lay you open to view,
It's all for your Froth and your Nick (you slaves)
And tell you no more than is true.
[Illustration]
If in a cold Morning we chance to come,
And bid a Good Morrow, my Host,
And call for some Ale, you will bring us black Pots
Yet scarce will afford us a Toast.
For those y^t drink Beer, 'tis true as i'me here,
Your Counterfeit Flaggons you have,
Which holds not a Quart, scarce by a third part,
And y^t makes my Hostis go brave.
But now Pimping Tankerds are all in use,
Which drains a Man's Pocket in brief,
For he that sits close, and takes off his Dose,
Will find that the Tankerd's a Thief.
Bee't Tankerd or Flaggon, which of them you brag on,
We'l trust you to Nick and to Froth,
Before we can Drink, be sure it will shrink,
Far worser than _North_ Country Cloth.
When Summer is coming, then hey, brave boys,
The tickling Cans they run round,
Pray tak't in good part, for a _Winchester_ Quart[F. 238]
Will fill six, I dare lay you a Pound.
Your Rabbits and Jugs, and Coffee House Mugs,
Are ready whene're you do call,
A P-- take his Trade, such Measure that's made,
I wish that old Nick had them all.
When we have a Fancy our Noses to Steel,
And call for some _Nance_[F. 239] of the best,
Be sure the short Pot must fall to our lot,
For now they are all in request.
Scarce one house in twenty, where measure is plenty,
But still they are all for the Pinch;
Thus, every day they drive Custom away,
And force us good-Fellows to flinch,
Sometimes a Man may leave something to pay,
Though seldom he did it before;
With _Marlborough_ Cholke you his patience provoke,
Whenever he clears off his score.
The women likewise which are not precise,
But will take a Cup of the best,
Tho they drink for pleasure, they'l have their measure
Or else you shall have little rest.
There's _Billings-gate_ Nan, all her whole gang,
Complaining for want of their due;
True Topers they are, as e're scor'd at Bar,
For they'l drink till their Noses look blew.
A Pot and a Toast will make them to boast,
Of things that are out of their reach;
So long as a Groat remains in the Coat,
They over good Liquor will preach.
In _Shoo Makers Row_ there's true hearts you know,
But give them their Measure and weight,
They'l scorn for to stir but stick like a Bur,
And Tope it from Morning till Night.
Then there's honest _Smug_ y^t with a full jug
Will set all his Brains in a float;
But you are such Sots as to fill him small Pots,
Will scarce quench y^t spark in his Throat.
With many such Blades, of several Trades,
Which freely their Money will spend;
But fill them good drink, they value not chink
Wherever they meet with a friend.
Most Trades in y^e Nation gives their approbation,
How that you are much for to blame;
Then make no excuses, but cease your abuses,
And fill up your Measure for shame.