Act iii. sc. 1, produced about 1616, and written by JOHN FLETCHER, Ben

Jonson, and Thomas Middleton. The song bears trace of Fletcher’s hand (more, we believe, than of Jonson’s). It has a rollicking freedom that made it a favourite. We meet it in _Wit’s Interpreter_, 1655, p. 69; 1671, p. 175; and elsewhere. See Dyce’s _Middleton_, iii. 383, and _Dodsley’s Old Plays_, 1744, vi. 34.

Page 61. _There is not halfe so warm a fire._

This re-appears, with variations and twelve additional lines (inferior), in _Westminster-Drollery_, 1671, i. 102; where is the corrupt text “_and ~daily~ pays us with what is_.” Our present text gives us the true word, “_dully_.”

Page 62. Fuller _of wish, than hope_, &c.

Fuller’s book, “A _Pisgah sight of Palestine_,” was published about 1649. The epitaph “Here lies Fuller’s earth,” is well known. He died in 1661.

Page 63. Cloris, _now thou art fled away_.

The author of this song was DR. HENRY HUGHES. Henry Lawes gives the music to it, in his “_Ayres_,” 1669, Bk. iii. p. 10. It is also in J. P.’s _Sportive Wit_, 1656, p. 15; the _Loyal Garland_ (Percy Soc. Reprint of 1686 edit, xxix. 67); _Pills to p. Mel._, 1719, iii. 331. Sometimes attributed to Sir R[obert] A[ytoun].

In _Sportive Wit_ there are variations as well as an Answer, which we here give. The different title seems consequent on the Answer presupposing that _Amintas_ has not died, merely disappeared. It is “A Shepherd fallen in Love: A Pastoral.” The readings are: _Lambkins follow_; _They’re gone, they’re_; Dog _howling_ lyes, _While_ he _laments with woful_ cryes; Oh _Cloris, Cloris, I decay_, And _forced am to cry well_, _&c._ Sixth verse there omitted. It has, however, on p. 16:—

_The Answer._

[1656.]

_~Cloris~, since thou art gone astray,_ _~Amyntas~ Shepherd’s fled away;_ _And all the joys he wont to spye_ _I’ th’ pretty babies of thine eye,_ _Are gone; and she hath none to say_ _But who can help what ~will away, will away~?_

_The Green on which it was her [? his] chance_ _To have her hand first in a dance,_ _Among the merry Maiden-crue,_ _Now making her nought but sigh and rue_ _The time she ere had cause to say_ [p. 17.] _Ah, who can help what ~will away, will away~?_

_The Lawn with which she wont to deck_ _And circle in her whiter neck;_ _Her Apron lies behinde the door;_ _The strings won’t reach now as before:_ _Which makes her oft cry ~well-a-day~:_ _But who can help what ~will away~?_

_He often swore that he would leave me,_ _Ere of my heart he could bereave me:_ _But when the Signe was in the tail,_ _He knew poor Maiden-flesh was frail;_ _And laughs now I have nought to say,_ _But who can help what ~will away~._

_But let the blame upon me lie,_ _I had no heart him to denie:_ _Had I another Maidenhead,_ _I’d lose it ere I went to bed:_ _For what can all the world more say,_ _Than who can help what ~will away~?_

(_Sportive Wit_; or, _The Muses’ Merriment_.)

Page 68. _I tell you all, both great and small._

Also in Captain William Hickes’ _London Drollery_, 1673, p. 179, where it is entitled “Queen Elizabeth’s Song.” The dance tune _Sallanger’s_ (or more commonly _Sellenger’s_) _Round_ is given in Chappell’s Pop. Music, O. T., p. 69. The name is corrupted from _St. Leger’s Round_; as in Yorkshire the Doncaster race is called the Sillinger, or Sellenger, to this day.

Page 70. _When ~James~ in ~Scotland~ first began._

Not yet found elsewhere, in MS. or print. The sixth verse refers to King James the First making so many Knights, on insufficient ground, that he incurred ridicule. Allusions are not infrequent in dramas and ballads. Here is the most noteworthy of the latter. It is in Additional MS. No. 5,832, fol. 205, British Museum.

Verses upon the order for making Knights of such persons who had £46 _per annum_ in King _James_ I.’s time.

_Come all you farmers out of the country,_ _Carters, plowmen, hedgers and all,_ _~Tom~, ~Dick~ and ~Will~, ~Ralph~, ~Roger~ and ~Humfrey~,_ _Leave off your gestures rusticall._ _Bidd all your home-sponne russetts adue,_ _And sute your selves in fashions new;_ _Honour invites you to delights:_ _Come all to Court and be made Knights_.

2.

_He that hath fortie pounds ~per annum~_ _Shalbe promoted from the plowe:_ _His wife shall take the wall of her grannum,_ _Honour is sould soe dog-cheap now._ _Though thow hast neither good birth nor breeding,_ _If thou hast money, thow art sure of speeding._

3.

_Knighthood in old time was counted an honour,_ _Which the best spiritts did not disdayne;_ _But now it is us’d in so base a manner,_ _That it’s noe creditt, but rather a staine:_ _Tush, it’s noe matter what people doe say,_ _The name of a Knight a whole village will sway._

4.

_Shepheards, leave singing your pastorall sonnetts,_ _And to learne complements shew your endeavours:_ _Cast of[f] for ever your two shillinge bonnetts,_ _Cover your coxcombs with three pound beavers._ _Sell carte and tarrboxe new coaches to buy,_ _Then, “Good your Worship,” the vulgar will cry._

5.

_And thus unto worshipp being advanced,_ _Keepe all your tenants in awe with your frownes;_ _And let your rents be yearly inhaunced,_ _To buy your new-moulded maddams new gowns._ _~Joan~, ~Sisse~, and ~Nell~ shalbe all ladified,_ _Instead of hay-carts, in coaches shall ryde._

6.

_Whatever you doe, have a care of expenses,_ _In hospitality doe not exceed:_ _Greatnes of followers belongeth to princes:_ _A Coachman and footmen are all that you need:_ _And still observe this, let your servants meate lacke,_ _To keep brave apparel upon your wives backe._

[Additional stanza from Mr. Hunter’s MS.]

7.

_Now to conclude, and shutt up my sonnett,_ _Leave of the Cart-whip, hedge-bill and flaile,_ _This is my counsell, think well upon it,_ _Knighthood and honour are now put to saile._ _Then make haste quickly, and lett out your farmes,_ _And take my advice in blazing your armes._ _Honor invites, &c._

(Shakespeare Soc., 1846, pp. 145-6, J. O. Halliwell’s Commentary on Merry Wives of Windsor, Act. ii. sc. 1, “These Knights will hack.” Also his notes in Tallis’s edit., of the same, n. d., pp. 122-3. William Chappell, in _Pop. Music O. T._, p. 327, gives the tune.)

Page 72. _The Chandler drew near his end._

Another tolerable Epigram on a Chandler meets us, beginning “How might his days end that made weeks [wicks]?” among the Epitaphs of _Wits Recreations_, 1640-5 (Reprint, p. 271).

Page 73. _Farre in the Forrest of Arden._

This is one of MICHAEL DRAYTON’S Pastorals, printed in 1593, in the Third Eclogue, and entitled _Dowsabell_. See _Percy’s Reliques_, vol. i. bk. 3, No. 8, 2nd edit. 1767, for remarks on variations, amounting to a remodelling, of this charming poem. We are glad to know that Mr. James Russell Smith is preparing a new edition of Michael Drayton’s voluminous works, to be included in the _Library of Old Authors_. Drayton suppressed his couplet poem of “Endimion and Phœbe:” _Ideas Latmvs_. It has no date, but was cited by Lodge in 1595, and has been reprinted by J. P. Collier; one of his handsome and carefully printed quartos, a welcome boon.

Page 78. _On the twelfth day of ~December~._

This ballad, a very early example of the _Down down derry_ burden, is not yet found elsewhere. It refers to the expedition against Scotland (then in alliance with Henry II. of France) made by the Protector, Edward, Duke of Somerset, in 1547, the first (not “fourth”) year of Edward VIth’s reign. The battle was fought on the “Black Saturday,” as it was long remembered, the tenth day of September (not of “December,” as the ballad mis-states it to have been). Terrible and remorseless was the slaughter of the ill-armed Scots, after they had imprudently abandoned their excellent hilly position, by the well-appointed English horsemen. The prisoners taken amounted to about fifteen hundred (“we found above twenty of their villains to one of their gentlemen,” says Patten), among whom was the Earl of Huntley, Lord Chancellor of Scotland, who on the previous day had sent a personal challenge to Somerset, asking to decide the contest by single combat: an offer which was not unreasonably declined, the Protector declaring that he desired no peace but such as he might win by his sword. “And thou, trumpet,” he told Huntley’s herald, “say to thy master, he seemeth to lack wit to make this challenge to me, being of such estate by the sufferance of God as to have so weighty a charge of so precious a jewel, the government of a King’s person, and then the protection of all his realms.” We learn that the Scots slain were tenfold the number of the prisoners taken. This battle of “Muskleburgh Field” (nearly the same locality as the battle of Prestonpans, wherein Prince Charles Edward in 1745 defeated Colonel Gardiner and his English troops), known also as of Fawside Brae, or of Pinkie, is described with unusual precision by an eye-witness: See _The Expedition into Scotland of the most worthily-fortunate Prince Edward Duke of Somerset_, uncle to our most noble Sovereign Lord the King’s Majesty Edward the VI., &c., made in the first year of his Majesty’s most prosperous reign, and set out by way of Diary, by W. Patten, Londoner. First published in 1548, this was reprinted in Dalyell’s _Fragments of Scottish History_, Edinburgh, 1798. This old ballad is not included by Dalyell, who probably knew not of its existence.

Page 80. _In ~Celia~[’s face] a question did arise._

By THOMAS CAREW, written before 1638. In Addit. MSS. No. 11,811, fol. 10; No. 22,118, fol. 43; also in _Wits Recreations_ (Repr., p. 19); Roxb. Libr. Carew, p. 6, &c.

Page 81. _Blacke Eyes, in your dark Orbs doe lye._

By JAMES HOWELL, Historiographer to Charles II., and author of the celebrated _Epistolæ Ho-Elianæ_, 1645, 1647, 1650, and 1655. He died in November, 1666; according to Anthony à Wood, (whose account of him in the _Athenæ Oxonienses_, iii. 744, edit. 1817, is given by Edward Arber in his excellent _English Reprints_, vol. viii, 1869, with a welcome promise of editing the said _Epistolæ_). This poem of “Black eyes,” &c., occurs among Howell’s poems collected by Sergeant-Major Peter Fisher, p. 68, 1663; again re-issued (the same sheets) as _Mr. Howell’s Poems upon divers Emergent Occasions_; Printed by James Cottrel, and dated 1664.” It is also found in C. F.’s “_Wit at a Venture; or, ~Clio’s~ Privy Garden_, containing Songs and Poems on Several Occasions, Never before in Print” (which statement is incorrect, as usual). Our text is the earliest we know in type. The only variations, in _Howell’s Poems_, are: 1st line, _doth_ lie; 4th verse, And by _those spells I am_ possest.

Page 83. _We read of Kings, and Gods, &c._

This is another of the charming poems by THOMAS CAREW, always a favourite with his own generation (few MS. or printed Collections being without many of them), and deserving of far more affectionate perusal in our own time than he generally meets. It is in Addit. MS. No. 11, 811, fol. 6b., entitled there “His Love Neglected.” Elsewhere, as “A Cruel Mistress.”

Page 84. _What ill luck had I, Silly Maid_, &c.

Although closely resembling the Catch “_What Fortune had I, poor Maid as I am_,” of 1661 _Antidote ag. Melancholy_, p, 74, and _Merry Drollery_ ii. 152 (equal to p. 341 of editions 1670 and 1691), this song is virtually distinct, and probably was the earlier version in date. One has been evidently borrowed or adapted from the other.

Page 85. _I never did hold all that glisters_, &c.

This vigorous expression of opinion from a robust nature, uncorrupted amid a conventionalized, treacherous, and selfishly-cruel community, is a valuable record of the true Cavalier “all of the olden time.” We have never met it elsewhere. He has no half-likings, no undefined suspicions, and admits of no paltering with the truth, or shirking of one’s duty. As we read we behold the honest man before us, and remember that it was such as he who made our England what she is:—

_Pride in their port, defiance in their eye,_ _I see the Lords of human kind pass by._

The contemplation of such brave spirits may help to nerve fresh readers to emulate their virtues, despite the sickly fancies or grovelling politics and social theories of degenerate days. The singer may be somewhat overbearing in announcement of his preferences:

——_Just this_ _Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,_ _Or there exceed the mark_,—

But, if he errs at all, it is on the safe side.

Page 88. _No Gypsie nor no Blackamore._

Composers and arrangers of such collections as this Drollery seem to have often chosen pieces simply for contrast. Thus, after the manly directness of “The Doctor’s Touchstone,” we find the vilely mercenary husband here exhibited, and followed by the truthful description (justifiable, although coarsely outspoken) of “The baseness of Whores.” Such were they of old: such are they ever.

Page 92. _Let not Sweet Saint_, &c.

Like the three preceding poems, not yet found elsewhere, but worthy of preservation.

Page 93. _How happy’s that Prisoner._

Written “by a Person of Quality:” whom we suspect to have been SIR FRANCIS WORTLEY, but without evidence to substantiate the guess. This is the earliest appearance in print, known to us, of this characteristic outburst of Cavalier vivacity, which re-appears as the Musician’s Song, in “_Cromwell’s Conspiracy_,” 1660, Act iii. sc. 2; and _Merry Drollery_, 1661, p. 101. (See also _M. D. C._, pp. 107, 373). As to the introduction of the several ancient philosophers (referred to in former Appendix, p. 373), compare the delightful _Chanson a Boire_,

_Je cherche en vin la vérité,_ _Si le vin n’aide à ma foiblesse,_ _Toute la docte antiquité_ _Dans le vin puisa la sagesse,_ _Oui c’est par le bon vin que le bon sens éclate,_ _J’en atteste_ Hypocrate, Qui dit qu’il fait a chaque mois Du moins s’enivrer une fois, _&c._

(The other twelve verses are given complete in “_Brallaghan; or, the Deipnosophists_,” 1845, pp. 198-203, with a clever verse-translation, by the foremost of linguistic scholars now alive—the friend of Talfourd and of Dr. W. Maginn—at whom many nowadays presume to scoff, and whom Benchers defame and banish themselves from.)

Page 97. _Fire! Fire! O how I burn, &c._

Also in _Windsor Drollery_, 1672, p. 126, as “Fire! Fire! _lo here_ I burn in my desire,” &c. And in Henry Bold’s _Latine Songs_, 1685, p. 139, where it is inserted, to be alongside of this parody on it by him, song xlvii., or a

MOCK.

1.

_Fire, Fire,_ _Is there no help for thy desire?_ _Are tears all spent? Is ~Humber~ low?_ _Doth ~Trent~ stand still? Doth ~Thames~ not flow?_ _Though all these can’t thy Feaver cure,_ _Yet ~Tyburn~ is a Cooler lure,_ _And since thou can’st not quench thy Fire,_ _Go hang thy self, and thy desire!_

2.

_Fire, fire,_ _Here’s one [still] left for thy desire,_ _Since that the Rainbow in the skye,_ _Is bent a deluge to deny,_ _As loth for thee a God should Lye._ _Let gentle Rope come dangling down,_ _One born to hang shall never drown,_ _And since thou can’st not quench the Fire,_ _Go hang thy self, and thy desire!_

(_Latine Songs_, 1685, p. 140.)

Page 98. _’Tis not how witty, nor how free._

A year earlier, this had appeared in _Wit’s Interpreter_, 1655, p. 4 (1671, p. 108), entitled “What is most to be liked in a Mistress.” Robt. Jamieson quotes it, from _Choyce Drollery_, in his _Pop. Bds._, 1806, ii. 309. We believe it to be by the same author as the poem next following, and regret that they remain anonymous. Both are of a stately beauty, and recall to us those Cavalier Ladies with whose portraits Vandyck adorned many family mansions.

Page 99. _She’s not the fairest of her name._

One clue, that may hereafter guide us to the authorship, we know the lady’s name. It was FREEMAN. This poem also had appeared a year earlier, at least, in _Wit’s Interpreter_, 1655, p. 55 (; 1671 ed., p. 161). Also in _Wit and Drollery_, 1661, p. 162; in _Oxford Drollery_, part ii. 1671, p. 87; and in _Loyal Garland_, 1686, as “The Platonick Lover” (reprinted by Percy Soc., xxix. 64). There should be a comma in fifth line, after the word Constancy. Various readings:—Verse 2, _meanest_ wit; and _yet_ a; 3, His _dear_ addresses; walls be _brick_ or stone.

Page 100. _’Tis late and cold, stir up the fire._

This Song, by JOHN FLETCHER, in his _Lover’s Progress_, Act iii. sc. 1., before 1625. The music is found in Additional MS. No. 11,608 (written about 1656), fol. 20; there called “Myne Ost’s Song, sung in _ye Mad Lover_ [wrong: a different play], set by Robt. Johnson.” It re-appears in _Wit and Drollery_ 1661, p. 212; in the _Academy of Complements_, 1670, p. 175, &c. It is the Song of the Dead Host, whose return to wait upon his guests and ask their aid to have his body laid in consecrated ground, is so humorously described. His forewarnings of death to Cleander are, to our mind, of thrilling interest. These scenes were Sir Walter Scott’s favourites; but Leigh Hunt, perversely, could see no merit in them. We believe that the tinge of sepulchral dullness in Mine Host enhances the vividness of the incidents, like the taciturnity of Don Guzman’s stony statue in Shadwell’s “Libertine.”

Thus the hundred-paged volume of _Choyce Drollery_, 1656,—“Delicates served up by frugall Messes, as aiming at thy satisfaction not saciety,”—comes to an end, with Beaumont and Fletcher. On them remembrance loves to rest, as the fitting representatives of that class of courtly gentlemen, poets, wits, and scholars, who were, to a great extent, even then, fading away from English society. To them had been visible no phase of the Rebellion, and they probably never conceived that it was near. Beaumont, with his statelier reserve, and his tendency to quiet musing, fostered “under the shade of melancholy boughs” at Grace-Dieu, had early passed away, honoured and lamented; a month before his friend Shakespeare went to rest: Shakespeare, who, having known half a century of busy life, felt contented, doubtless, to fulfil the wish that he had long before expressed, himself, almost prophetically:—

_“Let me not live,”—_ _Thus his good melancholy oft began, ..._ _“After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff_ _Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses_ _All but new things disdain; whose judgments are_ _Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies_ _Expire before their fashions:”—this he wished._

Fletcher survived nine years, and battled on with somewhat of spasmodic action; at once widowed and orphaned by the death of his close friend and work-fellow; winning fresh triumphs, it is true, and leaving many a trace of his bright genius like a gleam of heaven’s own light across the sadness and corruption of an imaginary world, that was not at all unreal in heroism or in wickedness. He also passed away while young; a few months later than the time when Charles the First came to the throne, suddenly elevated by the death of his father James, bringing abruptly to a consummation that marriage with the French Princess which did so much to lead him and his country into ruin. The year 1625 was the separating date between the autumnal ripeness and the chill of fruitless winter. A sunny glow remains on Fletcher to the last. With him it fades, and the world that he had known is changed.

[End of Notes to _Choyce Drollery_.]

APPENDIX. PART 2.

ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 1661.

_Gratiano._—“Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,— I love thee, and it is my love that speaks;— There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, ‘I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!’”

(_Merchant of Venice_, Act i. sc. 1.)

We have already, in a brief Introduction, (pp. 105-110), explained our reason for adding all that was necessary to complete this work; a large portion having been anticipated in _Merry Drollery_ of the same year, 1661. In the Postscript (pp. 161-165), we endeavoured to trace the authorship of the entire collection; leaving to these following notes, and those attached to _M. Drollery, Compleat_, the search for separate poems or songs. Also, on pp. 166-175, we traced the history of “Arthur o’ Bradley,” delaying the important song of his Wedding (from an original of the date 1656), unto Part IV. of our _Appendix_.

To no other living writer are we lovers of old literature more deeply indebted than to the veteran John Payne Collier, who is now far advanced in his eighty-seventh year, and whose intellect and industry remain vigorously employed at this great age: one proof of the fact being his new edition of Shakespeare (each play in a separate quarto, issued to private subscribers), begun in January, 1875, and already the Comedies are finished, in the third volume. Among his numerous choice reprints of rare originals, his series of the more than “_Seven Early Poetical Miscellanies_” was a work of greatest value. To these, with his new “_Shakespeare_,” the interesting “_Old Man’s Diary_,” his “_Bibliographical and Critical Account of the Rarest Books in the English Language_,” his “_Annals of the Stage_,” “_The Poetical Decameron_,” his charming “_Book of Roxburghe Ballads_,” 1847, his “_Broadside Black-Letter-Ballads_,” 1868, and other labours, no less than to his warmth of heart and friendly encouragement by letters, the present Editor owes many happy hours, and for them makes grateful acknowledgment.

About the year 1870, J. P. Collier issued to private subscribers his very limited and elegant Reprint, in quarto, of “_An Antidote against Melancholy_,” 1661. This is already nearly as unattainable as the original.

J. P. Collier gave no notes to his Reprint of the “Antidote,” but, in the brief Introduction thereunto, he mentioned that:—“This poetical tract has been selected for our reprint on account of its rarity, the excellence of the greater part of its contents, the high antiquity of some of them, and from the fact that many of the ballads and humorous pieces of versification are either not met with elsewhere, or have been strangely corrupted in repetition through the press. Two or three of them are used by Shakespeare, and the word ‘incarnadine’ [see our p. 148] is only found in ‘Macbeth’ (A. ii., sc. 2), in Carew’s poems, and in this tract: here we have it as the name of a red wine; and nobody hitherto has noticed it in that sense.

“When Ritson published his ‘Robin Hood’ in 1795, he relied chiefly upon the text of the famous ballad of ‘Arthur o’ Bradley,’ as he discovered it in the miscellany before us [See our _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, pp. 312, 399; also, in present volume, p. 166, and Additional Note]; but, learned in such matters as he undoubtedly was, he was not aware of the very early period at which ‘Arthur o’ Bradley’ was so popular as to be quoted in one of our Old Moralities, which may have been in existence in the reigns of Henry VI. or Henry VII., which was acted while Henry VIII. or Edward VI. were on the throne, and which is contained in a manuscript bearing the date of 1579.

“The few known copies of ‘An Antidote against Melancholy’ are dated 1661, the year after the Restoration, when lawless licence was allowed both to the press and in social intercourse; and, if we permitted ourselves to mutilate our originals, we might not have reproduced such coarseness; but still no words will be found which, even a century afterwards, were not sometimes used in private conversation, and which did not even make their appearance at full length in print. Mere words may be said to be comparatively harmless; but when, as in the time of Charles II, they were employed as incentives to vice and laxity of manners, they become dangerous. The repetition of them in our day, in a small number of reprints, can hardly be offensive to decorum, and unquestionably cannot be injurious to public morals. We always address ourselves to the students of our language and habits of life.”

Page 113 (original, p. 1). _Not drunken, nor sober, &c._

Joseph Ritson gave this Bacchanalian chant in the second volume of his “English Songs,” p. 58, 1783. Forty-six verses, out of the seventy, had been repeated in the “Collection of Old Ballads,” 1723-25, (which Ambrose Philips and David Mallet may have edited,) “The Ex-Ale-tation of Ale” is in vol. iii. p. 166. Part, if not all, must have been in existence fully ten years before it appeared in the “Antidote,” as we find “O Ale _ab alendo_, thou Liquor of life!” with music by John Hilton, in his “Catch that Catch Can,” p. 5, 1652. It is also in _Wit’s Merriment; or, Lusty Drollery_, 1656, p. 118; eight verses only. These are: 1. Not drunken; 2. But yet to commend it; 3. But yet, by your leave; 4. It makes a man merry; 5. The old wife whose teeth; 6. The Ploughman, the Lab’rer; 7. The man that hath a black blous to his wife; 8. With that my friend said, &c. Still earlier, the poem had appeared, imperfectly, in a four-paged quarto pamphlet, dated 1642 (along with “The Battle fought between the Norfolk Cock and the Wisbeach Cock,” see _M. D. C._, p. 242) as by THOMAS RANDALL, i.e. RANDOLPH. Accordingly, it has been included (34 verses only) in the 1875 edition of his Works, p. 662. We personally attach no weight to the pamphlet’s ascription of it to Randolph, (who died in March, 1634-5). It is far more likely to have been the work of SAMUEL ROWLANDS, in whose _Crew of Kind London Gossips_, 1663, we meet it, p. 129-141, and whose style it more closely resembles. Some poems duly assigned to Randolph are in the same volume, but the “Exaltation of Ale” is _not_ thus distinguished. There are seventy-two verses given, and the motto is _Tempus edax rerum, &c._ We have not been able to consult an earlier edition of S. Rowland’s “_Crew_,” &c., about 1650.

So long afterwards as 1788, we find an abbreviated copy of the song, six verses, in Lackington’s “British Songster,” p. 202, entitled “A Tankard of Ale.” The first verse runs thus:—

“_Not drunk, nor yet sober, but brother to both,_ _I met with a man upon Aylesbury Vale,_ _I saw in his face that he was in good case_ _To go and take part of a tankard of ale._”

Omitting all sequence of narrative, the other verses are adapted from the _Antidote’s_ 21st, 19th, 10th, 26th, and 50th; concerning the hedger, beggar, widow, clerk, and amicable conclusion over a tankard of ale. In a _Convivial Songster_, of 1807, by Tegg, London, these six are given with addition of another as fifth:—

_The old parish Vicar, when he’s in his liquor,_ _Will merrily at his parishioners rail,_ _“Come, pay all your tithes, or I’ll kiss all your wives,”_ _When once he shakes hands with a tankard of ale._

It had appeared in a Chap-book (circa 1794, according to Wm. Logan; see his amusing “Pedlar’s Pack,” pp. 224-6), with other five verses inserted before the Finale. We give them to complete the tale:—

_There’s the blacksmith by trade, a jolly brisk blade,_ _Cries, “Fill up the bumper, dear host, from the pail;”_ _So cheerful he’ll sing, and make the house ring,_ _When once he shakes hands with a tankard of ale._ _Laru la re, laru, &c. So cheerful, &c._

_There’s the tinker, ye ken, cries “old kettles to mend,”_ _With his budget and hammer to drive in the nail;_ _Will spend a whole crown, at one sitting down,_ _When once he shakes hands with a tankard of ale._ _Laru, &c._

_There’s the mason, brave ~John~, the carver of stone,_ _The Master’s grand secret he’ll never reveal;_ _Yet how merry is he with his lass on his knee,_ _When once he shakes hands with a tankard of ale._ _Laru, &c._

_You maids who feel shame, pray me do not blame,_ _Though your private ongoings in public I tell;_ _Young ~Bridget~ and ~Nell~ to kiss will not fail_ _When once they shake hands with a tankard of ale._ _Laru, &c._

_There’s some jolly wives, love drink as their lives,_ _Dear neighbours but mind the sad thread of my tale;_ _Their husbands they’ll scorn, as sure’s they were born,_ _If once they shake hands with a tankard of ale._ _Laru, &c._

_From wrangling or jangling, and ev’ry such strife,_ _Or anything else that may happen to fall;_ _From words come to blows, and sharp bloody nose,_ _But friends again over a tankard of ale._ _Laru, &c._

Notice the characteristic mention of William Elderton, the Ballad-writer (who died before 1592), in the thirty-third verse (our p. 119):—

_For ballads Elderton never had peer;_ _How went his wit in them, with how merry a gale,_ _And with all the sails up, had he been at the cup,_ _And washed his beard with a pot of good ale._

William Elderton’s “New Yorkshire Song, intituled _Yorke, Yorke, for my Monie_,” (entered at Stationers’ Hall, 16 November, 1582, and afterwards “Imprinted at London by Richard Iones; dwelling neere Holbourne Bridge: 1584),” has the place of honour in the Roxburghe Collection, being the first ballad in the first volume. It consequently takes the lead in the valuable “Roxburghe Bds.” of the Ballad Society, 1869, so ably edited by William Chappell, Esq., F.S.A. It also formed the commencement of Ritson’s _Yorkshire Garland_: York, 1788. It is believed that Elderton wrote the “excellent Ballad intituled The Constancy of Susanna” (Roxb. Coll., i. 60; Bagford, ii. 6; Pepys, i. 33, 496). A list of others was first given by Ritson; since, by W. C. Hazlitt, in his _Handbook_, p. 177. Elderton’s “Lenton Stuff ys come to the town” was reprinted by J. O. Halliwell, for the Shakespeare Society, in 1846 (p. 105). He gives Drayton’s allusion to Elderton in Notes to Mr. Hy. Huth’s “79 Black-Letter Ballads,” 1870, 274 (the “Praise of my Ladie Marquess,” by W. E., being on pp. 14-16). Elderton had been an actor in 1552; his earliest dated ballad is of 1559, and he had ceased to live by 1592. Camden gives an epitaph, which corroborates our text, in regard to the “thirst complaint” of the balladist:—

_Hic situs est sitiens, atque ebrius Eldertonus—_ _Quid dico—Hic situs est? his potius sitis est._

Thus freely rendered by Oldys:—

_Dead drunk here Elderton doth lie;_ _Dead as he is, he still is dry;_ _So of him it may well be said,_ _Here he, but not his thirst, is laid._

A MS., time of James I., possessed by J. P. Collier, mentions, in further confirmation:

_~Will Elderton’s~ red nose is famous everywhere,_ _And many a ballet shows it cost him very dear;_ _In ale, and toast, and spice, he spent good store of coin,_ _You need not ask him twice to take a cup of wine._ _But though his nose was red, his hand was very white,_ _In work it never sped, nor took in it delight;_ _No marvel therefore ’tis, that white should be his hand,_ _That ballets writ a score, as you well understand._

(See Wm. Chappell’s Popular Music of the Olden Time, pp. 107, 815; and J. P. Collier’s Extracts from Reg. Stat. Comp., _passim_, Indices, art. Elderton; and his Bk. of Roxb. Bds., p. 139.)

Page 125 (orig. 14). _With an old Song, made by, &c._

The fashion of disparaging the present, by praising the customs and people of days that have passed away, is almost as old as the Deluge, if not older. Homer speaks of the degeneracy in his time, and aged Israel had long earlier lamented the few and evil days to which his own life extended, in comparison with those patriarchs who had gone before him. Even as we know not the full value of the Mistress or the friend whose affection had been given unto us, until separated from them, for ever, by estrangement or the grave, so does it seem to be with many customs and things. Robert Browning touchingly declares:—

_And she is gone; sweet human love is gone!_ _’Tis only when they spring to heaven that angels_ _Reveal themselves to you; they sit all day_ _Beside you, and lie down at night by you_ _Who care not for their presence, muse or sleep,_ _And all at once they leave you, and you know them!_

Modified in succeeding reigns, the ballad of “The Queen [Elizabeth]’s Old Courtier, and A New Courtier of the King [James]” has already known two hundred and fifty years’ popularity. The earliest printed copy was probably issued by T. Symcocke, by or after 1626. We find it in several books about the time of the Restoration, when parodies became frequent. It is in _Le Prince d’Amour_, 1660, p. 161; _Wit and Drollery_, 1682 (not in 1656, 1661 edits.), p. 278, “With an old Song,” _&c._; _Wit and Mirth_, 1684, p. 43; _Dryden’s Misc. Poems_ (ed. 1716, iv. 108); with the Music, in _Pills_, iii. 271; in _Philomel_, 130, 1744; Percy’s _Reliques_, ii. Bk. 3, No. 8, 1767; Ritson’s _English Sgs._, ii. 140, and Chappell’s _Pop. Music_, p. 300, to which refer for a good introduction, with extract from Pepys Diary of 16th June, 1668. Accompanying a Parody by T. Howard, Gent. (beginning similarly, “An Old Song made of an old aged pate”), it meets us in the Roxburghe Coll., iii. 72, printed for F. Coles (1646-74).

Among other parodies may be mentioned one entitled “An Old Souldier of the Queen’s” (in _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, 31, and in _Wit and Drollery_, 248, 1661); another, “The New Souldier” (_Wit and Drollery_, 282, 1682), beginning:—

_With a new Beard but lately trimmed,_ _With a new love-lock neatly kemm’d,_ _With a new favour snatch’d or nimm’d,_ _With a new doublet, French-like trimm’d;_ _And a new gate, as if he swimm’d;_ Like a new Souldier of the King’s, And the King’s new Souldier.

_With a new feather in his Cap;_ _With new white bootes, without a strap_; &c.

In the same edition of _Wit and Drollery_, p. 165, is yet another parody, headed “_Old Souldiers_,” which runs thus (see _Westminster-Drollery_, ii. 24, 1672,):—

_Of Old Souldiers the song you would hear,_ _And we old fiddlers have forgot who they were._

John Cleveland had a parody on the Queen’s Courtier, about 1648, entitled The Puritan, beginning “With face and fashion to be known, For one of sure election.” Another, called The Tub-Preacher, is doubtfully attributed to Samuel Butler, and begins similarly, “With face and fashion to be known: With eyes all white, and many a groan” (in his _Posthumous Works_, p. 44, 3rd edit., 1730). The political parody, entitled “Saint George and the Dragon, _anglicé Mercurius Poeticus_,” to the same tune of “The Old Courtier,” is in the Kings Pamphlets, XVI., and has been reprinted by T. Wright for the Percy Soc., iii. 205. It bears Thomason’s date, 28 Feb., 1659-[60], and is on the overthrow of the Rump, by General Monk. It begins thus:—

_News! news! here’s the occurrences and a new Mercurius,_ _A dialogue between Haselrigg the baffled and Arthur the furious;_ _With Ireton’s readings upon legitimate and spurious,_ _Proving that a Saint may be the Son of a Wh——, for the satisfaction of the curious._ _From a Rump insatiate as the Sea,_ Libera nos, Domine, _&c._

Old songs have rarely, if ever, been modernized so successfully as “The Queen’s Old Courtier,” of which “The Fine Old English Gentleman” is no unworthy representative. Popular though it was, thirty or forty years ago, it is not easily met with now; thus we may be excused for adding it here:—

_THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN._

_I’ll sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate,_ _Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate,_ _And who kept up his old mansion, at a bountiful old rate;_ _With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at his gate._ _Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time._

_His hall so old was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows,_ _And swords, and good old bucklers, that had stood against old foes;_ _’Twas there “his worship” held his state in doublet and trunk hose,_ _And quaff’d his cup of good old Sack, to warm, his good old nose:_ _Like a fine old English gentleman, &c._

_When Winter’s cold brought frost and snow, he open’d house to all;_ _And though threescore and ten his years, he featly led the ball;_ _Nor was the houseless wanderer e’er driven from his hall,_ _For, while he feasted all the great, he ne’er forgot the small:_ _Like a fine old English gentleman, &c._

_But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll swiftly by;_ _And autum’s falling leaves proclaimed, the old man—he must die!_ _He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life’s latest sigh;_ _While a heavy stillness reign’d around, and tears dimm’d every eye._ _For this good old English gentleman, &c._

_Now surely this is better far than all the new parade_ _Of theatres and fancy balls, “At Home,” and masquerade;_ _And much more economical, when all the bills are paid:_ _Then leave your new vagaries off, and take up the old trade_ _Of a fine old English gentleman, &c._

A series of eight Essays, each illustrated with a design by R. W. Buss, was devoted to “The Old and Young Courtier” in the _Penny Magazine_ of the Society for Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, in 1842.

Charles Matthews used to sing (was it in “Patter _versus_ Clatter”?) an amusing version of “The Fine Young English Gentleman,” of whom it was reported that,

_He kept up his vagaries at a most astounding rate,_ _And likewise his old Landlady,—by staying out so late,_ _Like a fine young English gentleman, one of the present time, &c._

T. R. Planché wrote a parody to the same tune, in his “Golden Fleece,” on the “Fine Young Grecian Gentleman,” Iason, as described by his deserted wife Medea: it begins, “I’ll tell you a sad tale of the life I’ve been led of late.” In Dinny Blake’s “_Sprig of Shillelah_,” p. 3, is found “The Rale Ould Irish Gintleman,” (5 verses) beginning, “I’ll sing you a dacent song, that was made by a Paddy’s pate,” and ending thus:—

_Each Irish boy then took a pride to prove himself a man,_ _To serve a friend, and beat a foe it always was the plan_ _Of a rale ould Irish Gintleman, the boy of the olden time._

(Or, as Wm. Hy. Murray, of Edinburgh, used to say, in his unequalled “Old Country Squire,” “A smile for a friend, a frown for a foe, and a full front for every one!”)

At the beginning of the Crimean War appeared another parody, ridiculing the Emperor Nicholas, as “The Fine Old Russian Gentleman” (it is in Berger’s _Red, White, and Blue_, 467); and clever Robert B. Brough, in one of his more bitter moods against “The Governing Classes,” misrepresented the “Fine Old English Gentleman” (_Ibid._, p. 733), as splenetically as Charles Dickens did in _Barnaby Rudge_, chapter 47.

Page 20 (original). Pan _leave piping, &c._

Given already, in our Appendix to the _Westminster Drollery_, p. liv., with note of tune and locality. See Additional Note in Part 3 of present Appendix.

Page 129 (orig. 26). _Why should we boast of ~Arthur~, &c._

There are so many differences in the version printed in the _Antidote agt. Melancholy_ from that already given in _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, p. 309, (cp. Note, p. 399), that we give the former uncurtailed.

Along with the music in _Pills to p. Mel._, iii. 116, 1719, are the extra verses (also in _Wit and Mirth_, 1684, p. 29?) agreeing with the _Antidote_; as does the version in _Old Bds._, i. 24, 1723.

Another old ballad, in the last-named collection, p. 153, is upon “King Edward and Jane Shore; in Imitation, and to the Tune of, St. _George_ and the _Dragon_.” It begins (in better version):—

_Why should we boast of ~Lais~ and her knights,_ _Knowing such Champions entrapt by Whorish Lights?_ _Or why should we speak of ~Thais~ curled Locks,_ _Or ~Rhodope~, &c._

Roxb. Coll., iii. 258, printed in 1671. Also in _Pills_, with music, iv. 272. The authorship of it is ascribed to SAMUEL BUTLER, in the volume assuming to be his “Posthumous Works” (p. iii., 3rd edition, 1730); but this ascription is of no weight in general.

In Edm. Gayton’s _Festivous Notes upon Don Quixot_, 1654, p. 231, we read:—“’Twas very proper for these Saints to alight at the sign of St. _George_, who slew the Dragon which was to prey upon the Virgin: The truth of which story hath been abus’d by his own country-men, who almost deny all the particulars of it, as I have read in a scurrilous Epigram, very much impairing the credit and Legend of St. _George_; As followeth,

_They say there is no ~Dragon~,_ _Nor no Saint ~George~ ’tis said._ _Saint ~George~ and ~Dragon~ lost,_ _Pray Heaven there be a Maid!_

But it was smartly return’d to, in this manner,

_Saint ~George~ indeed is dead,_ _And the fell ~Dragon~ slaine;_ _The ~Maid~ liv’d so and dyed,—_ _She’ll ne’r do so againe._”

Somewhat different is the earlier version, in _Wit’s Recreations_, 1640-45. (Reprint, p. 194, which see, “To save a maid,” &c.) The Answer to it is probably Gayton’s own.

Page 133 (orig. 29). _Come hither, thou merriest, &c._

Issued as a popular broadsheet, printed at London for Thomas Lambert, probably during the lifetime of Charles I., we find this lively ditty of “Blew Cap for Me!” in the Roxburghe Coll., i. 20, and in the Bd. Soc. Reprint, vol. i. pp. 74-9. Mr. Chappell mentions that the tune thus named “is included in the various editions of _The Dancing Master_ from 1650 to 1690; and says, the reference to ‘when our good king was in Falkland town,’ [in the _Antidote_ it reads “our good _knight_,” line 13] may supply an approximate date to the composition.” We believe that it must certainly have been before the Scots sold their king for the base bribe of money from the Parliamentarians, in 1648, when “Blew caps” became hateful to all true Cavaliers. The visit to Falkland was in 1633, so the date is narrowed in compass. From the Black-letter ballad we gain a few corrections: _drowne_, for dare, in 4th line; long _lock’d_, 26th line; for _further_ exercises, 28th; _Mistris_ (so we should read _Maitresse_, not _a metrel_), 29th; _Pe gar_ me do love you (not “Dear”), 30th; _she_ replide. The First Part ends with the Irishman. The Second Part begins with two verses not in the _Antidote_:—

_A Dainty spruce Spanyard, with haire black as jett,_ _long cloak with round cape, a long Rapier and Ponyard;_ _Hee told her if that she could Scotland forget,_ _hee’d shew her the Vines as they grow in the Vineyard._ _“If thou wilt abandon_ _this Country so cold,_ _I’ll show thee faire Spaine,_ _and much Indian gold.”_ _But stil she replide, “Sir,_ _I pray let me be;_ Gif ever I have a man, Blew-cap for me.”

_A haughty high German of Hamborough towne,_ _a proper tall gallant, with mighty mustachoes;_ _He weepes if the Lasse vpon him doe but frowne,_ _yet he’s a great Fencer that comes to ore-match vs._ _But yet all his fine fencing_ _Could not get the Lasse;_ _She deny’d him so oft,_ _that he wearyed was;_ _For still she replide, “Sir,_ _I pray let me be;_ Gif ever I have a man, Blew-cap for me.”

In the Netherland Mariner’s Speech we find for the fifth line of verse, “_Isk_ will make thee,” _said_ he, “sole Lady,” &c. Another verse follows it, before the conclusion:—

_These sundry Sutors, of seuerall Lands,_ [4] _did daily solicite this Lasse for her fauour;_ _And euery one of them alike vnderstands_ _that to win the prize they in vaine did endeauour:_ _For she had resolued_ _(as I before said)_ _To haue bonny Blew-cap,_ _or else bee a maid._ _Vnto all her suppliants_ _still replyde she,_ “Gif ever I have a man, Blew-cap for me.”

_At last came a Scottish-man (with a blew-cap),_ _and he was the party for whom she had tarry’d;_ _To get this blithe bonny Lasse ’twas his gude hap,—_ _they gang’d to the Kirk, & were presently marry’d._ _I ken not weele whether_ _it were Lord or Leard;_ [Laird] _They caude him some sike_ _a like name as I heard;_ _To chuse him from au_ _She did gladly agree,—_ _And still she cride_, “Blew-cap, th’art welcome to mee.”

The song is also reprinted for the Percy Society, (Fairholt’s _Costume_), xxvii. 130, as well as in Evans’ _O. Bds._, iii. 245. Compare John Cleavland’s “Square Cap,”—“Come hither, _Apollo’s_ bouncing girl.”

Page 135 (orig. 30). _The Wit hath long beholden been._

In Harleian MS. No. 6931, where it is signed as by DR. W. STRODE.

The tune of this is “The Shaking of the Sheets,” according to a broadside printed for John Trundle (1605-24, before 1628, as by that date we believe his widow’s name would have been substituted). We find it reprinted by J. P. Collier in his _Book of Roxburghe Ballads_, p. 172, 1847, as “The Song of the Caps.” In an introductory note, we gather that “This spirited and humorous song seems to have been founded, in some of its points, upon the ‘Pleasant Dialogue or Disputation between the Cap and the Head,’ which prose satire went through two editions, in 1564 and 1565: (see the Bridgewater Catalogue, p. 46.) It is, however, more modern, and certainly cannot be placed earlier than the end of the reign of Elizabeth. It may be suspected that it underwent some changes, to adapt it to the times, when it was afterwards reprinted; and we finally meet with it, but in a rather corrupted state, in a work published in 1656, called ‘Sportive Wit: the Muses Merriment, a new Spring of Lusty Drollery,’ &c.” [p. 23.] It appears, with the music, in _Pills_, iv. 157; in Percy Society’s “Costume,” 1849, 115, with woodcuts of several of the caps mentioned.

In _Sportive Wit_, 1656, p. 23, is a second verse (coming before “The Monmouth Cap,” &c.):—

2.—_The Cap doth stand, each man can show,_ _Above a Crown, but Kings below:_ _The Cap is nearer heav’n than we;_ _A greater sign of Majestie:_ _When off the Cap we chance to take,_ _Both head and feet obeysance make;_ For any Cap, &c.

In our 3rd verse, it reads:—ever _brought_, The _quilted_, Furr’d; _crewel_; 4th verse, line 6, of (_some say_) a horn. 5th verse, crooked _cause aright; Which, being round and endless, knows_ || _To make as endless any cause_ [A better version]. 6th, _findes_ a mouth; 7th, The _Motley Man_ a Cap; [for lines 3, 4, compare Shakespeare, as to it taking a wise man to play the fool,] like _the Gyant’s_ Crown. 8th, Sick-_mans_; When _hats in Church_ drop off apace, _This_ Cap _ne’er leaves the_ head _uncas’d_, Though he be _ill_; [two next verses are expanded into three, in _Sp. Wit_.] 11th, none but _Graduats_ [N.B.]; _none_ covered are; _But those that_ to; _go_ bare. _This_ Cap, _of all the Caps that be_, Is _now_; _high_ degree.

Page 139 (orig. 37). _Once I a curious eye did fix._

This is in THOMAS WEAVER’S _Songs and Poems of Love and Drollery_, p. 16, 1654. Elsewhere attributed to JOHN CLEVELAND (who died in 1658), and printed among his Poems “_J. Cleavland Revived_” (p. 106, 3rd edit. 1662), as “The Schismatick,” with a trashy fifth verse (not found elsewhere):—

_I heard of one did touch,_ _He did tell as much,_ _Of one that would not crouch_ _At ~Communion~;_ _Who thrusting up his hand_ _Never made a stand_ _Till he came where her f—— had union;_ _She without all terrour,_ _Thought it no errour,_ _But did laugh till the tears down did trickle,_ _Ha, ha, ha, ~Rotundus~, ~Rotundus~, ’tis you that my spleen doth tickle._

It is likewise in the _Rump_ collection, i. 223, 1662; _Loyal Sgs._, i. 131, 1731.

Page 139 (orig. 47). _I’s not come here to tauk of ~Prut~._

By BEN JONSON. This is the song of the Welshmen, Evan, Howell, and Rheese, alternately, in Praise of Wales, sung in an Anti-Masque “For the Honour of Wales,” performed before King James I. on Shrove Tuesday, 1618-19. The final verse is omitted from the _Antidote against Melancholy_. It is this (sung by Rheese):—

_Au, but what say yow should it shance too,_ _That we should leap it in a dance too,_ _And make it you as great a pleasure,_ _If but your eyes be now at leisure;_ _As in your ears s’all leave a laughter,_ _To last upon you six days after?_ _Ha! well-a-go to, let us try to do,_ _As your old ~Britton~, things to be writ on._

CHORUS.—_Come, put on other looks now,_ _And lay away your hooks now;_ _And though yet yow ha’ no pump, sirs,_ _Let ’em hear that yow can jump, sirs,_ _Still, still, we’ll toudge your ears,_ _With the praise of her thirteen s’eeres._

(See Col. F. Cunningham’s “Mermaid” Ben Jonson, iii. 130-2, for Gifford’s Notes.) With a quaint old woodcut of a strutting Welshman, in cap and feather, the song reappears in “_Recreations for Ingenious Head-pieces_,” 1645 (_Wits Recreations_, Reprint, p. 387).

Page 143. _Old Poets Hipocrin admire._

This is attributed to THOMAS RANDALL, or RANDOLPH (died 1634-5), in _Wit and Mirth_, 1684. p. 101: But to N. N., along with music by Hy. Lawes, in his _Ayres_, Book ii. p. 29, 1655. It is also in _Parnassus Biceps_, 1656, p. 158, “_All_ Poets,” &c., and in _Sportive Wit_, p. 60.

Page 144. _Hang the Presbyter’s Gill._

With music in _Pills_, vi. 182; title, “The Presbyter’s Gill:” where we find three other verses, as 4th, 5th, and 7th:—

4.

_The stout-brested ~Lombard~, His brains ne’er incumbred,_ _With drinking of Gallons three;_ _~Trycongius~ was named, And by ~Cæsar~ famed,_ _Who dubb’d him Knight Cap-a-pee._

5.

_If then Honour be in’t, Why a Pox should we stint_ _Ourselves of the fulness it bears?_ _H’ has less Wit than an Ape, In the blood of a Grape,_ _Will not plunge himself o’er Head and Ears._

7.

_See the bold Foe appears, May he fall that him Fears,_ _Keep you but close order, and then_ _We will give him the Rout, Be he never so stout[,]_ _And prepare for his Rallying agen._

8 (Final).

_Let’s drain the whole Cellar, &c._

The accumulative progression, humourously exaggerated, is to be seen employed in other Drinking Songs; notably in “Here’s a Health to the Barley-Mow, my brave boys!” (still heard at rural festivals in East Yorkshire, and printed in J. H. Dixon’s _Bds. & Sgs. of the Peasantry_, Bell’s annotated edit., p. 159) and “Bacchus Overcome,” beginning “My Friend and I, we drank,” &c. (in _Coll. Old Bds._, iii. 145, 1725.)

Page 145. _’Tis Wine that inspires._

With music by Henry Lawes, in his Select Ayres, i. 32, 1653, entitled “The Excellency of Wine:” the author was “LORD BROUGHALL” [query, Broghill?].

(Page, in original, 55.) _Let the bells ring._

See Introduction to our _Westminster-Drollery_ Reprint, pp. xxxvii-viii. Although not printed in the first edition of his “Spanish Curate,” it is so entirely in the spirit of JOHN FLETCHER that we need not hesitate to assign it to him: and he died in 1625.

Page 146. _Bring out the [c]old Chyne._

With music, by Dr. John Wilson, in John Playford’s _Select Ayres_, 1659, p. 86, entitled Glee to the Cook. A poem attributed to Thomas Flatman, 1655, begins, “A Chine of Beef, God save us all!”

Page 147. _In Love? away! you do me wrong._

Given, with music by Henry Lawes, in his _Select Ayres_, Book iii. p. 5, 1669. The author of the words was Dr. HENRY HUGHES. We do not find the burden, “Come, fill’s a Cup,” along with the music.

(Page 65, orig.) _He that a Tinker, a Tinker &c._

See _Choyce Drollery_, 52, and note on p. 289.

Page 149, line 8th, _Now that the Spring, &c._

This was written by WILLM. BROWNE, author of “Britannia’s Pastorals,” and therefore dates before 1645. See Additional Note, late in Part IV., on p. 296 of _M. D. C._

Page 149. _You Merry Poets, old boys._

Given, with music by John Hilton, in his _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 7. Also in Walsh’s _Catch-Club_, ii. 13, No. 24.

Page 150. _Come, come away, to the Tavern, I say._

By Sir JOHN SUCKLING, in his unfinished tragedy “The Sad One,” Act iv. sc. 4, where it is sung by Signior Multecarni the Poet, and two of the actors; but without the final couplet, which recalls to memory Francis’s rejoinder in Henry IV., pt. i. Suckling was accustomed to introduce Shakesperian phrases into his plays, and we believe these two lines are genuine. We find the Catch, with music by John Hilton in that composer’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 15. (Also in Playford’s _Musical Companion_, 1673, p. 24.)

Captain William Hicks has a dialogue of Two Parliamentary Troopers, beginning with the same first line, in _Oxford Drollery_, i. 21, 1671. Written before 1659, thus:

_Come, come away, to the Tavern, I say,_ _Whilst we have time and leisure for to think;_ _I find our State lyes tottering of late,_ _And that e’re long we sha’n’t have time to drink._ Then here’s a health to thee, to thee and me, To me and thee, to thee and me, _&c._

Page 151. _There was an Old Man at ~Walton~ Cross._

This should read “_Waltham_ Cross.” By RICHARD BROME, in his comedy of “The Jovial Crew,” Act ii., 1641, wherein it is sung by Hearty, as “t’other old song for that” [the uselessness of sighing for a lass]; to the tune of “Taunton Dean,” (see Dodsley’s _Old Plays_, 1st edit., 1744, vi. 333). With music by John Hilton, it is given in J. H.’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 31. It is also in Walsh’s _Catch Club_ (about 1705) ii. 17, No. 43.

Page 151. _Come, let us cast dice, who shall drink._

In J. Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 55, with music by William Lawes; and in John Playford’s _Musical Companion_, 1673, p. 24.

Page 151. _Never let a man take heavily, &c._

With music by William Lawes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 38.

Page 152. _Let’s cast away care, and merrily sing._

With music by William Lawes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 37. Wm. Chappell gives the words of four lines, omitting fifth and sixth, to accompany the music of Ben Jonson’s “Cock Lorrell,” in _Pop. Mus. of O. T._, 161 (where date of the _Antidote_ is accidentally misprinted 1651, for 1661).

Page 152. _Hang sorrow, and cast away care._

With music by William Lawes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1652, p. 39. The words alone in _Windsor Drollery_, 140, 1672. Richard Climsall, or Climsell, has a long ballad, entitled “Joy and Sorrow Mixt Together,” which begins,

_Hang Sorrow! let’s cast away care,_ _for now I do mean to be merry;_ _Wee’l drink some good Ale and strong Beere,_ _With Sugar, and Clarret, and Sherry._ _Now Ile have a wife of mine own:_ _I shall have no need for to borrow;_ _I would have it for to be known_ _that I shall be married to morrow._ Here’s a health to my Bride that shall be! come, pledge it, you coon merry blades; The day I much long for to see, we will be as merry as the Maides.

Poor fellow! he soon changes his tune, after marriage, although singing to the music of “Such a Rogue would be hang’d,”—better known as “Old Sir Simon the King.” Printed by John Wright the younger (1641-83), it survives in the Roxburghe Collection, i. 172, and is reprinted for the Bd. Soc., i. 515. As may be seen, it is totally different from the Catch in Hilton’s volume and the _Antidote_; which is also in _Oxford Drollery_, Pt. 3, p. 136, there entitled “A Cup of Sack:—“_Hang Sorrow, cast_,” &c.

It there has two more verses:—

2.

_Come Ladd, here’s a health to thy Love,_ [p. 136.] _Do thou drink another to mine,_ _I’le never be strange, for if thou wilt change_ _I’le barter my Lady for thine:_ _She is as free, and willing to be_ _To any thing I command,_ _I vow like a friend, I never intend_ _To put a bad thing in thy hand:_ _Then be as frollick and free_ [p. 137.] _With her as thou woul’st with thine own,_ _But let her not lack good Claret and Sack,_ _To make her come off and come on._

3.

_Come drink, we cannot want Chink,_ _Observe how my pockets do gingle,_ _And he that takes his Liquor all off_ _I here do adopt him mine ningle:_ _Then range a health to our King,_ _I mean the King of ~October~,_ _For ~Bacchus~ is he that will not agree_ _A man should go to bed sober:_ _’Tis wine, both neat and fine,_ _That is the faces adorning,_ _No Doctor can cure, with his Physick more sure,_ _Than a Cup of small Beer in the morning._

This shows how a great man’s gifts are undervalued. Christopher Sly was truly wise (yet accounted a Sot and even a Rogue, though “the Slys are no rogues: look in the chronicles! We came in with Richard Conqueror!”) when, with all the wealth and luxury of the Duke at command, he demanded nothing so much as “a pot o’ the smallest ale.” He had good need of it.

Page 152. _My Lady and her Maid, upon a merry pin._

This meets us earlier, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1651, p. 64, with music by William Ellis. The missing first verse reappears (if, indeed, not a later addition) in _Oxford Drollery_, 1674, Part iii. p. 163, as “made at Oxford many years since”:—

_My Lady and her Maid_ _Were late at Course-a-Park:_ _The wind blew out the candle, and_ _She went to bed in the dark,_

_My Lady, &c._ [as in _Antidote ag. Mel._]

It was popular before December, 1659; allusions to it are in the _Rump_, 1662, i. 369; ii. 62, 97.

Page 153. _An old house end._

Also in _Windsor Drollery_, 1672, p. 30.

Same p. 153. _Wilt thou lend me thy Mare._

With music by Edmund Nelham, in John Hilton’s _Catch that Catch can_, 1652, p. 78. The Answer, here beginning “Your Mare is lame,” &c., we have not met elsewhere. The Catch itself has always been a favourite. In a world wherein, amid much neighbourly kindness, there is more than a little of imposition, the sly cynicism of the verse could not fail to please. Folks do not object to doing a good turn, but dislike being deemed silly enough to have been taken at a disadvantage. So we laugh at the Catch, say something wise, and straightway let ourselves do good-natured things again with a clear conscience.

Page 154. _Good ~Symon~, how comes it, &c._

With music by William Howes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch can_, 1652, p. 84. Also in Walsh’s _Catch-Club_, ii. 77. We are told that the _Symon_ here addressed, regarding his Bardolphian nose, was worthy Symon Wadloe,—“Old _Sym_, the King of Skinkers,” or Drawers. Possibly some jocular allusion to the same reveller animates the choice ditty (for which see the _Percy Folio MS._, iv. 124, and _Pills_, iii. 143),

_Old Sir ~Simon~ the King!_ _With his ale-dropt hose,_ _And his malmesy nose,_ _Sing hey ding, ding a ding ding._

We scarcely believe the ascription to be correct, and that “Old Symon the King” originally referred to Simon Wadloe, who kept the “Devil and St. Dunstan” Tavern, whereat Ben Jonson and his comrades held their meetings as The Apollo Club; for which the _Leges Conviviales_ were written. Seeing that Wadloe died in 1626, or ’27, and there being a clear trace of “Old Simon the King” in 1575, in Laneham’s _Kenilworth Letter_ (Reprinted for Ballad Society, 1871, p. cxxxi.), the song appears of too early a date to suit the theory. _Tant pis pour les faits._ But consult Chappell’s _Pop. Mus._, 263-5, 776-7.

Same p. 154. _Wilt thou be fatt? &c._

In 1865 (see his _Bibliog. Account_, i. 25), J. P. Collier drew attention to the mention of Falstaff’s name in this Catch; also to the other _Shakesperiana_, viz., the complete song of “Jog on, jog on the footpath way,” (p. 156), and the burden of “Three merry boys,” to “The Wise-men were but Seven” (_M. D. C._, p. 232), which is connected with Sir Toby Belch’s joviality in _Twelfth Night_, Act ii. 3.

Page 155. _Of all the birds that ever I see._

With the music, in Chappell’s _Pop. Mus. O. T._, p. 75. This favourite of our own day dates back so early, at least, as 1609, when it appeared in (Thomas Ravenscroft’s?) _Deuteromelia; or, the Second Part of Musick’s Melodie, &c._, p. 7. We therein find (what has dropped out, to the damage of our _Antidote_ version), as the final couplet:—

_Sinamont and ginger, nutmegs and cloves,_ _And that gave me my jolly red nose._

Of course, it was the spice deserved blame, not the liquor (as Sam Weller observed, on a similar occasion, “Somehow it always _is_ the salmon”). Those who remember (at the Johnson in Fleet Street, or among the Harmonist Society of Edinburgh) the suggestive lingering over the first syllable of the word “gin-ger,” when “this song is well sung,” cannot willingly relinquish the half-line. It is a genuine relic, for it also occurs in Beaumont and Fletcher’s “Knight of the Burning Pestle,” about 1613, Act i. sc. 3; where chirping Old Merrythought, “who sings with never a penny in his purse,” gives it thus, while “singing and hoiting” [i.e., skipping]:—

_Nose, nose, jolly red nose,_ _And who gave thee this jolly red nose?_ Cinnamon and ginger, nutmegs and cloves, _And they gave me this jolly red nose_.

And we know, by _A Booke of Merrie Riddles_, 1630, and 1631, that it was much sung:

—_then Ale-Knights should_ _To sing this song not be so bold,_ Nutmegs, Ginger, Cinamon and Cloves, They gave us this jolly red nose.

Same p. 155. _This Ale, my bonny lads, &c._

Like Nos. 4, 21, 24, 31, &c., not yet found elsewhere.

Page 156. _What! are we met? Come. &c._

With music by Thomas Holmes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch can_, 1652, p. 46.

Same p. 156. _Jog on, jog on the foot path-way._

The four earliest lines of this ditty are sung by Autolycus the Pedlar, and “picker up of unconsidered trifles,” in Shakespeare’s _Winter’s Tale_ (about 1610), Act iv. sc. 2. Whether the latter portion of the song was also by him (nay, more, whether he actually wrote, or merely quoted even the four opening lines), cannot be determined. We prefer to believe that from his hand alone came the fragment, at least—this lively snatch of melody, with good philosophy, such as the Ascetics reject, to their own damage. No wrong is done in accepting the remainder of the song as genuine. The final verse is orthodox, according to the Autolycusian rule of faith. It is in _Windsor Drollery_, p. 30; and our Introduction to _Westminster-Drollery_, p. xxxv.

Page 157. _The parcht earth drinks_, &c.

Compare, with this lame paraphrase of Anacreon’s racy Ode, the more poetic version by Abraham Cowley, printed in _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, p. 22 (not in 1661 ed. _Merry D._) All of Cowley’s Anacreontiques are graceful and melodious. He and Thomas Stanley fully entered into the spirit of them, _arcades ambo_.

Same p. 157. _A Man of Wales_, &c.

We meet this, six years earlier, in _Wits Interpreter_, 1655 edit., p. 285; 1671, p. 290. Our text is the superior.

Page 158. _Drink, drink, all you that think._

Also found in _Wit and Mirth_, 1684, p. 113.

Page 159. _Welcome, welcome, again to thy wits._

By JAMES SHIRLEY, (1590-1666) in his comedy, “The Example,” 1637, Act v. sc. 3, where it is the Song of Sir Solitary Plot and Lady Plot. Repeated in the _Academy of Complements_, 1670, p. 209. Until after that date, for nearly a century, almost all the best songs had been written for stage plays. It forms an appropriate finale, from the last Dramatist of the old school, to the Restoration merriment, the _Antidote against Melancholy_, of 1661.

In one of the later “Sessions of the Poets” (_vide postea_ Part 4, § 2)—probably, of 1664-5,—Shirley is referred to, ungenerously. He was then aged nearly seventy:—

_Old ~Shirley~ stood up, and made an Excuse,_ _Because many Men before him had got;_ _He vow’d he had switch’d and spur-gall’d his Muse,_ _But still the dull Jade kept to her old trot._

He is also mentioned, with more reverence implied, by George Daniel of Beswick; and we may well conclude this second part of our Appendix with the final verses from the Beswick MS. (1636-53); insomuch as many Poets are therein mentioned, to whom we return in Section Fourth:—

_The noble ~Overburies~ Quill has left_ [verse 20] _A better Wife then he could ever find:_ _I will not search too deep, lest I should lift_ _Dust from the dead: Strange power, of womankind,_ _To raise and ruine; for all he will claime,_ _As from that sex; his Birth, his Death, his Fame._

_But I spin out too long: let me draw up_ _My thred, to honour names, of my owne time_ _Without their Eulogies, for it may stop_ _With Circumstantiall Termes, a wearie Rhime:_ _Suffice it if I name ’em; that for me_ _Shall stand, not to refuse their Eulogie._

_The noble ~Falkland~, ~Digbie~, ~Carew~, ~Maine~,_ _~Beaumond~, ~Sands~, ~Randolph~, ~Allen~, ~Rutter~, ~May~,_[13] _The devine ~Herbert~, and the ~Fletchers~ twaine_, _~Habinton~, ~Shirley~, ~Stapilton~; I stay_ [N.B.] _Too much on names; yet may I not forget_ _~Davenant~, and ~Suckling~, eminent in witt._

_~Waller~, not wants, the glory of his verse;_ _And meets, a noble praise in every line;_ _What should I adde in honour? to reherse,_ _Admired ~Cleveland~? by a verse of mine?_ _Or give ye glorious Muse of ~Denham~ praise?_ _Soe withering Brambles stand, to liveing Bayes._

_These may suffice; not only to advance_ _Our ~English~ honour, but for ever crowne_ _Poesie, ’bove the reach of Ignorance;_ _Our dull fooles unmov’d, admire their owne_ _Stupiditie; and all beyond their sphere_ _As Madnes, and but tingling in the Eare._

[Final Verse.]

_Great Flame! whose raies at once have power to peirce_ _The frosted skull of Ignorance, and close_ _The mouth of Envie; if I bring a verse_ _Unapt to move; my admiration flowes_ _With humble Love and Zeale in the intent_ _To a cleare Rapture, from the Argument._

(G. D.’s “_A Vindication of Poesie_.”)

End of Notes to _Antidote_.

APPENDIX. PART 3.

§ 1.—EXTRA SONGS IN THE WESTMINSTER-DROLLERY, 1674.

“A living Drollery!” (Shakespeare’s _Tempest_, Act iii. sc. 3.)

Before concluding our present series, _The Drolleries of the Restoration_, we have gladly given in this volume the fourteen pages of Extra Songs contained in the 1674 edition of _Westminster-Drollery_, Part 1st. Sometimes reported as amounting to “nearly forty” (but, perhaps, this statement referred to the Second Part inclusive), it is satisfactory to have joined these six to their predecessors; especially insomuch that our readers do not, like the original purchasers, have to pay such a heavy price as losing an equal number of pages filled with far superior songs. For, the 1671 Part First contained exactly 124 pages, and the 1674 edition has precisely the same number, neither more nor less. The omissions are not immediately consecutive, (as are the additions, which are gathered in one group in the final sheet, pp. 111-124.) They were selected, with unwise discrimination, throughout the volume. Not fourteen pages of objectionable and relinquishable _facetiæ_; but ten songs, from among the choicest of the poems. Our own readers are in better case, therefore: they gain the additions, without yielding any treasures of verse in exchange.

We add a list of what are thus relinquished from the 1674 edition, noting the pages of our _Westm. D._ on which they are to be found:—

P. 5. Wm. Wycherley’s, _A Wife I do hate_ 1671 — 10. Dryden’s, _Phillis ~Unkind~: Wherever I am_ do. — 15. Unknown, _O you powerful gods_, ? do. — 28. T. Shadwell’s, _Thus all our life long_, 1669 — 30. Dryden’s, Cellamina, _of my heart_, 1671 — 31. Ditto, _Beneath a myrtle shade_, do. — 116. Ditto, Ditto (almost duplicate), do. — 47. Ditto, _Make ready, fair Lady_, 1668 — —. Etherege’s, _To little or no purpose_, do. — 91. T. Carew’s, _O my dearest, I shall_, &c., bef. 1638 — 100. Ditto, or Cary’s, _Farewell, fair Saint_, bef. 1652

Thus we see that most of these were quite new when the _Westminster-Drollery_ first printed them (in four cases, at least, before the plays had appeared as books): they were rejected three years later for fresh novelties. But the removal of Carew’s tender poems was a worse offence against taste.

Except the odd Quakers’ Madrigall of “Wickham Wakened” (on p. 120; our p. 188), which is not improbably by Joe Haynes, we believe the whole of the other five new songs of 1674 came from one work. We are unable at once to state the name and author of the drama in which they occur. The five are given (severely mutilated, in two instances) in _Wit at a Venture; or, ~Clio’s~ Privy-Garden_, of the same date, 1674. Here, also, they form a group, pp. 33-42; with a few others that probably belong to the same play, viz., “Too weak are human eyes to pry;” “Oh that I ne’er had known the power of Love;” “Must I be silent? no, and yet forbear;” “Cease, wandering thought, and let her brain” (this is Shirley’s, in the “Triumph of Beauty,” 1645); “How the vain world ambitiously aspires;” “Heaven guard my fair _Dorinda_:” and, perhaps, “Rise, golden Fame, and give thy name or birth.” Titles are added to most of these.

Page 179. _So wretched are the sick of Love_, is, on p. 37 of _Wit at a Venture_, entitled Distempered Love. The third verse is omitted.

Page 181. _To Arms! To Arms! &c._, on p. 39, entitled The Souldier’s Song; 13th line reads “Where _we_ must try.”

Page 182. _Beauty that it self can kill_, on p. 35; reading, in 20th line, “When the fame and virtue falls || Careless courage,” &c.

Page 183. _The young, the fair, &c._, on p. 33, is entitled _The Murdered Enemy_; reading _Clarissa_ for _Camilla_; and giving lines 17th and 19th, “Her beauties” and “Fierce Lions,” &c. Line 23rd is “And not to check it in the least.”

Page 184. _How frailty makes us to our wrong._

Called A Moral Song in _Wit at a Venture_, p. 41, which rightly reads “grovel,” not “gravel,” in line 6; but omits third verse, and all the Chorus.

Page 188. _The Quaker and his Brats._

We have not seen this elsewhere. Attributed to “the famous actor, JOSEPH HAINES,” or “Joe Haynes,”

_Who, while alive, in playing took great pains,_ _Performing all his acts with curious art,_ _Till Death appear’d, and smote him with his dart._

His portrait, as when riding on a Jack-ass, in 1697, is extant. He died 4th April, 1701, and was mourned by the Smithfield muses.

§ 2.—ADDITIONAL NOTES

To the 1671-72 Editions of

WESTMINSTER-DROLLERY.

Page 81. _Is she gone? let her go._

This is a parody or mock on a black-letter ballad in the Roxburghe Collection, ii. 102, entitled “The Deluded Lasses Lamentation: or, the False Youth’s Unkindness to his Beloved Mistress.” Its own tune. Printed for P. Brooksby, J. Deacon, J. Blare, J. Black. In four-line verses, beginning:—

_Is she gone? let her go, I do not care,_ _Though she has a dainty thing, I had my share:_ _She has more land than I by one whole Acre,_ _I have plowed in her field, who will may take her._