Part 6

DITTY.--_A ballad-man._ "Come, new books, new books, newly printed and newly come forth! All sorts of ballads and pleasant books! _The Famous History of Tom Thumb_ and _Unfortunate Jack, A Hundred Goodly Lessons_ and _Alas, poor Scholar, whither wilt thou go? The second part of Mother Shipton's Prophecies, newly made by a gentleman of good quality_, foretelling what was done four hundred years ago, and _A Pleasant Ballad of a bloody fight seen i' th' air_, which, the astrologers say, portends scarcity of fowl this year. The _Ballad of the Unfortunate Lover_. I have _George of Green_, _Chivy Chase_, _Collins and the Devil; or, Room for Cuckolds_, _The Ballad of the London 'Prentice_, _Guy of Warwick_, _The Beggar of Bethnal Green, the Honest Milkmaid; or, I must not wrong my Dame_, _The Honest Fresh Cheese and Cream Woman_. Then I have _The Seven Wise Men of Gotham_, _A Hundred Merry Tales_, _Scoggin's Jests; or, A Book of Prayers and Graces for Young Children_. I have very strange news from beyond seas. The King of Morocco has got the black jaundice, and the Duke of Westphalia is sick of the swine-pox, with eating bacon; the Moors increase daily, and the King of Cyprus mourns for the Duke of Saxony, that is dead of the stone; and Presbyter John is advanced to Zealand; the sea ebbs and flows but twice in four-and-twenty hours, and the moon has changed but once the last month."

BUDGET.--_A Tinker._ "Have you any work for the tinker? Old brass, old pots, old kettles. I'll mend them all with a tara-tink, and never hurt your metal."

GUM.--_A Tooth drawer._ "Have you any corns upon your feet or toes? Any teeth to draw?"

JENNITING.--_An Apple wench._ "Come buy my pearmains, curious John Apples, dainty pippins? Come, who buy? who buy?"

CURDS.--_A fresh Cheese and Cream woman._ "I have fresh cheese and cream; I have fresh cheese and cream."

THE SORROWFUL LAMENTATIONS of the PEDLARS AND PETTY CHAPMEN, For the Hardness of the Times and the Decay of Trade. _To the Tune of_ "My Life and my Death."

"The times are grown hard, more harder than stone, And therefore the Pedlars may well make their moan, Lament and complain that trading is dead, That all the sweet golden days now are fled. Then maidens and men, come see what you lack, And buy the fine toys that I have in my pack!

"Come hither and view, here's choice and here's store, Here's all things to please ye, what would you have more? Here's points for the men, and pins for the maid, Then open your purses and be not afraid. Come, maidens, &c.

"Let none at a tester repent or repine: Come bring me your money, and I'll make you fine; Young Billy shall look as spruce as the day, And pretty sweet Betty more finer than May. Then, maidens, &c.

"To buy a new license your money I crave; 'Tis that which I want, and 'tis that which you have: Exchange then a groat for some pretty toy, Come, buy this fine whistle for your little boy. Come, maidens, &c.

"Here's garters for hose, and cotton for shoes. And there's a gilt bodkin, which none would refuse: This bodkin let John give to sweet Mistriss Jane, And then of unkindness he shall not complain. Come, maidens, &c.

"Come buy this fine coife, this dressing, or hood, And let not your money come like drops of blood: The Pedlar may well of his fortune complain If he brings all his ware to the market in vaine. Then, maidens, &c.

"Here's band strings for men, and there you have lace, Bone-lace to adorn the fair virgin's sweet face: Whatever you like, if you will but pay, As soon as you please you may take it away. Then, maidens, &c.

"The world is so hard that we find little trade, Although we have all things to please every maid: Come, pretty fair maids, then make no delay, But give me your hansel, and pack me away. Come, maidens, &c.

"Here's all things that's fine, and all things that's rare, All modish and neat, all new London ware: Variety here you plainly may see, Then give me your money, and we will agree. Come, maidens, &c.

"We travel all day through dirt and through mire, To fetch you fine laces and what you desire; No pains do we spare to bring you choice ware, As gloves and perfumes, and sweet powder for hair. Then, maidens, &c.

"We have choice of songs, and merry books, too, All pleasant and witty, delightful and new, Which every young swain may whistle at plough, And every fair milk-maid may sing at her cow. Then, maidens, &c.

"Since trading's so dead we must needs complain, And, therefore, pray let us have some little gain: If you will be free, we will you supply With what you do want; therefore, pray come and buy. The world is so hard, that although we take pains, When we look in our purses we find little gains.

"Printed for J. BACK, at the Black-boy, on London Bridge."

In "Merry Drollery Complete, or, a Collection of Jovial Poems, Merry Songs, Witty Drolleries, Intermixed with Pleasant Catches, London, Printed for _William Miller_, at the _Gilded Acorn_, in _St. Paul's_ Church-yard, 1661," the _Catch_ which follows will be found. The Rev. J. Woodfall Ebsworth, M.A., Cantab, who has carefully edited and reprinted [1875] "Both Parts"; says in his _Appendix of Notes_:--"Hare-skin and Rabbit-skin collectors, have always been queer characters. This catch is by JOHN FLETCHER, in his 'Beggar's Bush,' act iii., sc. 1, where it is sung by 'Clause' his boy. Clause, the vagabond beggar, was a popular favourite, reproduced in 'Drolls.' We see him represented in the frontispiece of _The Wits_, by Kirkman and Cox."

A CATCH.

"Bring forth your Cunny skins, fair maids, to me, And hold them fair that I may see Gray, black, and blue; for your smaller skins-- I'll give you Glasses, Laces, Pins: And for your whole Cunny I'll give ready money.

"Come, gentle _Jone_, do thou begin With thy black, black, black Cunny skin, And _Mary_ then, and _Kate_ will follow With their silver'd hair'd skins, and their yellow; Your white Cunny skin I will not lay by, Though it be fat, it is not fair to the Eye.

"Your gray it is warm, but for my money Give me the bonny, bonny black Coney; Come away, fair maids, your skins will decay, Come take money, maids, put your ware away; I have fine Bracelets, Rings, And I have silver Pins Coney skins, Coney skins, Maids, have you any Coney skins."

In the same Collection there is a vigorous song exposing the cheats of mendicants. The hero of which declares:--"_I am a Rogue, and a stout one_." And that among the many cheats, counterfeits, deceits and dodges he has to resort to, at times he may be seen:--

"In _Pauls_ Church-yard, by a pillar, Sometimes you see me stand, Sir, With a writ that shows what cares, what woes I have passed by Sea and Land, Sir, Then I do cry, &c.

"Come buy, come buy a Horn-book, Who buys my Pins and Needles: Such things do I in the City cry Oftimes to 'scape the Beadles, Then I do cry, &c."

For the counterpart of this Rogue and Vagabond, the reader is referred to Vol. I, No. 42-3 of the Roxburghe Ballads--(British Museum.) Where there is one entitled:--

THE CUNNING NORTHERN BEGGAR.

Who all the by-standers doth earnestly pray To bestow a penny upon him to-day. TO THE TUNE OF _Tom of Bedlam_.

I am a lusty beggar, And live by others giving! I scorn to work, But by the highway lurk, And beg to get my living: I'll i' the wind and weather, And wear all ragged garments; Yet, though I'm bare, I'm free from care,-- A fig for high preferments!

_Therefore I'll cry, &c._

* * * *

My flesh I can so temper That it shall seem to fester, And look all o'er Like a raw sore, Whereon I stick a plaister. With blood I daub my face then, To feign the falling sickness, That in every place They pity my case, As if it came through weakness.

_Therefore I'll cry, &c._

* * * *

No tricks at all shall escape me, But I will by my maunding, Get some relief To ease my grief When by the highway standing: 'Tis better be a Beggar, And ask of kind good fellows, And honestly have What we do crave, Than steal and go to the gallows.

_Therefore I'll cry, "Good your worship, good sir, Bestow one poor denier, sir, Which, when I've got, At the Pipe and Pot I soon will it cashier, sir."_

FINIS.

Printed at London for F. Coules.

The following ballad was published in "Playford's Select Ayres," 1659, p. 95; with music by Dr. John Wilson, and Musical Companion, 1673. It is in the Percy Folio MS., iii., 308-11. Also in "Windsor Drollery," 2; and "Le Prince d'Amour," 1660, p. 177. It is attributed to Shakespeare, but with only manuscript evidence.

"THE SONG OF THE PEDLARS.

"From the fair Lavinian shore, I your markets come to store. Muse not though so far I dwell And my wares come here to sell: Such is the insatiate thirst after gold, Then come to my pack While I cry, what d'ye lack, What d'ye buy? for here it is to be sold.

"Courteous Sir, I've wares for you, Garters red and stockings blue, Dainty gaudes for Sunday gear, Beads and laces for your dear, First let me have but a touch of your gold Then come--Not a swain, Half so neat, On the plain Shall we meet So comely to behold.

"Madam, come, here you may find Rings with posies to your mind, Silken bands for true-love-knot, And complexion I have got. First let me have but a touch of your gold, Then come--To your face, I'll restore Every grace Though you're more Than three score and ten years old.

"Gentles all, now fare you well, I must trudge my wares to sell; Lads so blythe and Dames so young, Drop a guerdon for my song. Just let me have but a touch of your gold, I'll come with my pack Again to cry, What d'ye lack, What d'ye buy? For here it is to be sold."

Mr. John Payne Collier, in his "_A Book of Roxburghe Ballads_," London, 1847, reproduces a capital ditty; "ryhte merrie and very excellent in its way," relating to the popular pursuits and the customs of London and the Londoners in the early part of the seventeenth century. It is printed _verbatim_ from a broadside, signed W. Turner, and called:--

"The Common Cries of London Town, Some go up street and some go down.

With Turner's Dish of Stuff, or a Gallymaufery

To the tune of _Wotton Towns End_.[6] Printed for F. C[oles,] T. V[ere,] and W. G[ilbertson.] 1662."

The only known copy is dated 1662, but contains internal evidence, in the following stanza (which occurs in the opening of The Second Part,) that it was written in the reign of James I.

"That's the fat foole of the Curtin: And the lean fool of the Bull: Since _Shancke_ did leave to sing his rimes, He is counted but a gull.

"The players on the Bankside, The round Globe and the Swan, Will teach you idle tricks of love, But the Bull will play the man."

_Shancke._--John Shancke the comic actor here mentioned was celebrated for singing rhymes, and what were technically "jigs" on the stage. In this respect, as a low comedian he had been the legitimate successor of Tarlton, Kempe, Phillips, and Singer. He was on the stage from 1603 to 1635, when he died. Then, John Taylor the _Water Poet_, no mean authority, informs us that the Swan Theatre, on the Bankside, in the Liberty of Paris Gardens, had been abandoned by the players in 1613. The Curtain Theatre in Holywell street--or Halliwell street, as it was usually spelt at that time--Shoreditch Fields[7] had also fallen into disuse before the reign of Charles I. The Globe on the Bankside, and the [Red] Bull Theatre at the upper end of St. John's street, Clerkenwell were employed until after the restoration. The allusion to the Waterman carrying "bonny lasses over to the plays," is also a curious note of time. With these matters before us, we may safely conclude that "Turner's Dish of Stuff" is but a reprint of an earlier production. As we find it, so we lay it before our readers: thus:--

"THE COMMON CRIES OF LONDON TOWN: SOME GO UP STREET, SOME GO DOWN.

With Turner's Dish of Stuff, or a Gallymaufery. _To the tune_ of Wotton Towns End."

"My masters all, attend you, if mirth you love to heare, And I will tell you what they cry in London all the yeare. Ile please you if I can, I will not be too long: I pray you all attend awhile, and listen to my song.

"The fish-wife first begins, Anye muscles lilly white! Herrings, sprats or plaice, or cockles for delight. Anye welflet oysters! Then she doth change her note: She had need to have her tongue be greas'd, for the rattles in the throat.

"For why, they are but Kentish, to tell you out of doubt. Her measure is too little; goe, beat the bottom out. Half a peck for two pence? I doubt it is a bodge. Thus all the City over the people they do dodge.

"The wench that cries the kitchin stuff, I marvel what she ayle, She sings her note so merry, but she hath a draggle tayle: An empty car came running, and hit her on the bum; Down she threw her greasie tub, and away straight she did run.

"But she did give her blessing to some, but not to all, To bear a load to Tyburne, and there to let it fall: The miller and his golden thumb, and his dirty neck, If he grind but two bushels, he must needs steal a peck.

"The weaver and the taylor, cozens they be sure, They cannot work but they must steal, to keep their hands inure; For it is a common proverb thorowout the town, The taylor he must cut three sleeves to every woman's gown.

"Mark but the waterman attending for his fare, Of hot and cold, of wet and dry, he alwaies takes his share: He carrieth bonny lasses over to the playes, And here and there he gets a bit, and that his stomach staies.

"There was a singing boy who did not ride to Rumford; When I go to my own school I will take him in a comfort; But what I leave behind shall be no private gain; But all is one when I am gone: let him take it for his pain.

"Old shoes for new brooms! the broom-man he doth sing, For hats or caps or buskins, or any old pouch ring. Buy a mat, a bed-mat! a hassock or a presse, A cover for a close stool, a bigger or a lesse.

"Ripe, cherry ripe! the coster-monger cries; Pippins fine or pears! another after hies, With basket on his head his living to advance, And in his purse a pair of dice for to play at mumchance.

"Hot pippin pies! to sell unto my friends, Or pudding pies in pans, well stuft with candle's ends. Will you buy any milk? I heard a wench that cries: With a pale of fresh cheese and cream, another after hies.

"Oh! the wench went neatly; me thought it did me good, To see her cherry cheeks so dimpled ore with blood: Her waistcoat washed white as any lilly floure; Would I had time to talk with her the space of half an hour.

"Buy black! saith the blaking man, the best that ere was seen; Tis good for poore citizens to make their shoes to shine. Oh! tis a rare commodity, it must not be forgot; It will make them to glister galantly, and quickly make them rot.

"The world is full of thread-bare poets that live upon their pen, But they will write too eloquent, they are such witty men. But the tinker with his budget, the beggar with his wallet, And Turners turned a gallant man at making of a ballet."

THE SECOND PART.

_To the same Tune._

"That's the fat foole of the Curtin, and the lean fool of the Bull: Since Shancke did leave to sing his rimes, he is counted but a gull. The players on the Bankside, the round Globe and the Swan, Will teach you idle tricks of love, but the Bull will play the man.

"But what do I stand tattling of such idle toyes? I had better go to Smith-Field to play among the boyes: But you cheating and deceiving lads, with your base artillery, I would wish you to shun Newgate, and withall the pillory.

"And some there be in patcht gownes, I know not what they be, That pinch the country-man with nimming of a fee; For where they get a booty, they'le make him pay so dear, They'le entertain more in a day, then he shall in a year.

"Which makes them trim up houses made of brick and stone, And poor men go a begging, when house and land is gone. Some there be with both hands will swear they will not dally, Till they have turn'd all upside down, as many use to sally.

"You pedlers, give good measure, when as your wares you sell: Tho' your yard be short, your thumb will slip your tricks I know full well. And you that sell your wares by weight, and live upon the trade, Some beams be false, some waits too light; such tricks there have been plaid.

"But small coals, or great coals! I have them on my back: The goose lies in the bottom; you may hear the duck cry quack. Thus Grim the black collier, whose living is so loose, As he doth walk the commons ore, sometimes he steals a goose.

"Thou usurer with thy money bags that livest so at ease, By gaping after gold thou dost thy mighty God displease; And for thy greedy usury, and thy great extortion, Except thou dost repent thy sins, Hell fire will be thy portion.

"For first I came to Houns-Ditch, then round about I creep, Where cruelty was crowned chief and pity fast asleep: Where usury gets profit, and brokers bear the bell. Oh, fie upon this deadly sin! it sinks the soul to hell.

"The man that sweeps the chimneys with the bush of thorns, And on his neck a trusse of poles tipped all with horns, With care he is not cumbered, he liveth not in dread? For though he wear them on his pole, some wear them on their head.

"The landlord with his racking rents turns poor men out of dore; Their children go a begging where they have spent their store. I hope none is offended with that which is endited If any be, let him go home and take a pen and write it.

"Buy a trap, a mouse trap, a torment for fleas! The hangman works but half the day; he lives too much at ease. Come let us leave this boyes play and idle prittle prat, And let us go to nine holes, to spurn-point, or to cat.

"Oh! you nimble fingered lads that live upon your wits, Take heed of Tyburn ague, for they be dangerous fits; For many a proper man, for to supply his lack, Doth leap a leap at Tyburn, which makes his neck to crack.

"And to him that writ this song I give this simple lot: Let every one be ready to give him half a pot. And thus I do conclude, wishing both health and peace To those that are laid in their bed, and cannot sleep for fleas. W. TURNER"

The "tink, terry tink" of the Tinker's "Cry" is preserved in a Miscellany of the year 1667, called "_Catch that Catch Can; or, the Musical Champion_."

"The Tinker.

"Have you any work for a tinker, mistriss? Old brass, old pots, or kettles? I'll mend them all with a tink, terry tink, And never hurt your mettles. First let me have but a touch of your ale, 'Twill steel me against cold weather, Or tinkers frees, Or vintners lees, Or tobacco chuse you whether. But of your ale, Your nappy ale, I would I had a ferkin, For I am old And very cold And never wear a jerkin."

The tinker's "Cry" forms the opening lines of "Clout the Cauldron," one of the best of our old Scottish songs:--

"'Hae ye ony pots or pans, Or any broken chanlers,' I am a tinker to my trade, And newly come from Flanders."

But the song is so well known to all who take an interest in our northern minstrelsy, and is to be found, moreover, in every good collection of Scottish Songs, that it is enough to refer to it.

Honest John Bunyan was a travelling tinker originally. Reader! just for a moment fancy the inspired author--poet we may call him--of "_The Pilgrim's Progress_," crying the "cry" of his trade through the streets of Bedford, thus--"_Mistress, have you any work for the tinker? pots, pans, kettles I mend, old brass, lead or old copper I buy. Anything in my way to-day, maids?_" While at the same time, through his brain was floating visions of Vanity Fair, the Holy War, the Slough of Despond, the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the Barren Fig Tree, the Water of Life, &c. beneath the long head of hair, shaggy and dirty, too, as a tinker's generally is.

This will be found in "_Windsor Drollery_," and, with music for three voices, by Thomas Holmes, in John Hilton's "_Catch that Catch Can_;" and also Walsh's "_Catch Club_." Part II., p. 25.

"Have you observ'd the wench in the street, She's scarce any hose or shoes to her feet; And when she cries, she sings, 'I have hot Codlings, hot Codlings.'

"Or have you ever seen or heard, The mortal with his Lyon tauny beard! He lives as merrily as heart can wish, And still he cries, 'Buy a brush, buy a brush.'

"Since these are merry, why should we take care? Musicians, like Camelions, must live by the Aire; Then let's be blithe and bonny, no good meeting baulk, What though we have no money, we shall find Chalk."

The best known collection of cries is "The Cryes of the City of London. Drawne after the Life. P. Tempest, _Excudit_," a small folio volume, which when published, in 1688, consisted of only fifty plates, as the following advertisement, extracted from the _London Gazette_ of May 28-31, 1688, sufficiently proves:--

"There is now published the Cryes and Habits of London, lately drawn after the Life in great variety of Actions. Curiously Engraven upon 50 Copper plates, fit for the Ingenious and Lovers of Art. Printed and Sold by P. Tempest, over-against Somerset House, in the Strand."

Samuel Pepys, the eccentric diarist, who died 1703, left to Magdalene College, Cambridge, an invaluable collection of ballads, manuscript naval memoirs, ancient English poetry, three volumes of "Penny Merriments," and a numerous assemblage of etchings and engravings. Among the latter are a number of Tempest's Cries in the first state. These are still preserved in the Pepysian Library in the same College.