Part 11

Astrology (in the middle of the seventeenth century) was beginning to fall into disrepute, and Butler, in _Hudibras_, as well as Ben Jonson in _The Alchemist_, satirised unmercifully both the science and its professors. The accompanying engraving "The Astrologer's Bugg Beare" refers to an eclipse of the sun, an event, which even at that time was considered of dire portent. Take the title of one tract as a sample. [F. 95]"The Shepherds Prognostication, Foretelling the sad and strange Eclipse of the Sun, which will happen on the 29 of March this present year 1652. which Eclipse will begin about eight of the Clock in the fore noon, and so continue till past the hour of eleven, which will be the dismallest day that ever was known since the year 33, when our Savior Christ suffered on the Crosse for the sins of Mankind, at which time the Seas did roare, the earth did quake, the graves did open, the temple rent from the top to the bottom, _Luke_ 23. 45. And there was a darknesse over all the Land. This Prediction also foretells of many strange Presages and Passages which will follow after that horrible Eclipse of the Sun, and what will insue. With a perfect way whereby to avoid the insuing danger. By L. P." (? Laurence Price.) And the contents of the tract fully bears out its title.

But "L. P.," whoever he was, entered thoroughly into the joke of the thing, and, when it was all over, wrote a book, teeming with quiet satire, which was published on 9th April 1652, called--

The Astrologer's Bugg Beare.

[64.] In his little tract he chaffs the people most unmercifully, yet very quietly, at times so much so that one might almost think it written in earnest. For instance: "A Usurer that was to receive money of a country man that was his debter on that day, durst not to venter fourth of his house; by which meanes the man rid forth out of London and paid not in his moneyes, for which cause the Usurer was about to cut his own throat, and had don it, if he had not bin prevented by some of his Neighboures.

Some other Christians were so fearefull of what would befall, that they sent their maids two dayes before Black monday for to fetch in faire water in a redynesse to wash, fearing that the ayre would infect the water.

Some tooke Medicines, Pils, and Antidotes, which was administred unto them by a supposed out landish doctor, which he had set bils for in severall places, caling his Medicines, an Antidote against the tirrible Eclipes of the Sun, so he got money, and they went away as wise as woodcockes."

Ben Jonson, in "The Alchemist" gives a very vivid and amusing picture of an astrologer and his gull. Act 1, Scene 3. Subtle (the astrologer), Face (his agent), Drugger (a tobacconist).

_Subtle._ What is your name, say you, _Abel Drugger_? [65.]

_Drugger._ Yes Sir,

_Sub._ A Seller of _Tobacco_?

_Dru._ Yes, Sir

_Sub._ 'Umh, Free of the Grocers?[F. 96]

_Dru._ I, and't please you.

_Sub._ Well, Your business _Abel_?

_Dru._ This, and't please your Worship, I am a yong beginner, and am building Of a new shop, and't like your worship, just At Corner of a Street: (Here's the plot on't.) And I would know, by art, Sir, of your Worship, Which way I should make my dore, by _Necromancie_. And where my Shelves. And which should be for Boxes, And which for Potts. I would be glad to thrive, Sir, And, I was wish'd to your Worship by a Gentleman, One Captaine _Face_, that say's you know mens _Planets_, And their good _Angels_, and their bad.

_Sub._ I doe If I do see 'hem.[F. 97]

_Face._ What! my honest _Abel_? Thou art well met here.

_Dru._ Troth, Sir, I was speaking Just as your Worship came here, of your Worship. I pray you, speake for me to M^r Doctor.

_Face._ He shall doe anything. Doctor, doe you heare? This is my friend, _Abel_, an honest fellow.

* * * * *

_Sub._ H'is a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on.

_Face._ Already, Sir, ha' you found it? Lo' the _Abel_!

_Sub._ And in right way to'ward riches.

_Face._ Sir!

_Sub._ This Summer He will be of the Clothing[F. 98] of his Company. And, next spring, call'd to the Scarlet.[F. 99] Spend what he can.

_Face._ What, and so little Beard?

_Sub._ Sir, you must thinke, He may have a receipt to make hayre come. But he'll be wise, preserve his youth, and fine[F. 100] for't. His fortune lookes for him, another way.

_Face._ 'Slid, Doctor, how canst thou know this so soone? I am amus'd at that!

_Sub._ By a rule, Captayne In _Metaposcopie_ which I doe worke by, A certaine Starre i' the forehead, which you see not. Your Chest-nut, or your Olive colourd face Do's never fayle; and your long Eare doth promise. I knew't, by certaine spotts too, in his teeth, And on the nayle of his _Mercurial_ finger.

_Face._ Which finger's that?

_Sub._ His little finger, Looke. Yo' were borne upon a Wensday.

_Drug._ Yes, indeed, Sir.

_Sub._ The Thumbe, in _Chiromantie_, we give _Venus_; The Fore-finger to _Iove_; the Midst, to _Saturne_; The Ring to _Sol_, the Least to Mercurie, Who was the Lord, Sir, of his _Horoscope_, His _House of Life_ being _Libra_. Which foreshew'd He should be a Marchant, and should trade with Ballance.

_Face._ Why, this is strange! Is't not, honest _Nab_?

_Sub._ There is a Ship now, comming from Ormu's, That shall yeeld him such a Commoditie Of Drugs. This is the West, and this the South?

_Drug._ Yes Sir.

_Sub._ And those are your two sides!

_Drug._ I, Sir.

_Sub._ Make me your Dore, then, South; your broad side, West; And, on the East-side of your shop, aloft, Write _Mathlaj_, _Tarmiel_, and _Baraborat_; Upon the North-part _Rael_, _Velel_, _Thiel_, These are the names of those _Mercurian_ Spirits, That doe fright flyes from boxes.

_Drug._ Yes Sir,

_Sub._ And Beneath your threshold, bury me a Loade stone To draw in Gallants that weare spurres; The rest Theyll seeme to follow.

In this play, too, Alchemy is scarified, as is also the Puritanism of the age.

[Footnote 93: ? Laurence Price.]

[Footnote 94: He published from 1641 to 1683.]

[Footnote 95: Brit. Mus. Cat. (E. 1351.)/1]

[Footnote 96: Company.]

[Footnote 97: A play upon the word. Subtle meaning the gold coin called an Angel, value 10s.]

[Footnote 98: _i.e._ be made a liveryman.]

[Footnote 99: Made sheriff.]

[Footnote 100: Pay the penalty instead of serving.]

A very drunken Sot [12.] The Hickock had got, Cause he drank _Rosa Solis_ and _Aqua Vitæ_; Such Latine drink that he Declines _Hic_, _Hoc_, very free, But such English words as wou'd fright ye.

[52.] A poore man travelling from door to door a begging, being lately come from _Paris_, a City in _France_, being invited by hunger to a good simple Country Swain's doore, to aske his almes; his wife asked him what he was, and from whence he came? Quoth the fellow, from _Paris_. From _Paradise_ (quoth she) then thou knowest my old _John_ there (meaning her former husband) I, quoth the fellow, that I doe. I pray thee (quoth she) how doth he doe? Faith (quoth the fellow) poore, he hath meat and drinke enough, but wants cloathes and mony. Alas, quoth she, I am sory for it, I pray thee stay a little; and, running up into her Chamber, fetcht downe her husbands new sute of cloathes, and five shillings in mony, and gave it to the fellow, saying, I pray thee remember me to my poore _John_, and give him this sute of clothes, and five shillings from me, and wrapt them up in a Fardle,[F. 101] which the fellow took, and away he went. Presently her husband came home, and found her very pleasant and merry, singing up and downe the house, which she seldome used to doe, and he asked her the cause, Oh, husband, quoth she, I have heard from my old _John_ to-day, he is in Paradise, and is very well, but wants clothes and mony, but I have sent him thy best sute, and five shillings in mony. Her husband seeing she was cozened, enquired of her which way the fellow went that had them. Yonder way, quoth she: he presently took his best horse, Hob, and rode after him for the clothes. The fellow seeing one ride so fast after him, threw the clothes into a ditch, and went softly forward; her husband overtaking the fellow, said, Didst not see one go this way with a little fardle of clothes at his back? Yes, quoth the fellow, he is newly gone into yonder little Wood. Oh, hold my horse, quoth he, whilst I runne in and finde him out. I will, quoth the fellow, who presently, as soon as he was gone into the wood, took up his fardell, leapt on horseback, and away he went: The Man returning for his horse, his horse was gone; then going home to his wife, she asked him if he overtook the fellow. I, sweet heart, quoth he, and I have lent him my best horse to ride on, for it is a great long way to Paradise. Truly, husband, quoth she, and I shall love thee the better so long as I live, for making so much of my old _John_. Which caused much good laughter to all that heard it.

[Footnote 101: A bundle.]

Tom vow'd to beat his boy against the wall, [5.] And as he strucke, he forth-with caught a fall: The boy deriding said, I doe averre, Y'have done a thing, you cannot stand to, Sir.

[32.] What is that goeth about the wood and cannot get in?

_Solution._ It is the bark of a tree, for never is the bark within the tree, but alwayes without.

The country-mans lamentation for the death of his _cow_.

A Country Swain, of little wit, one day, Did kill his Cow, because she went astray: What's that to I or You, she was his own, But now the Ass for his Cow doth moan: Most piteously methink he cries in vain, For now his Cow's free from hunger and pain: What ails the fool to make so great a stir, She cannot come to him, he may to her.

To a pleasant Country Tune, called _Colly my Cow_.

Little _Tom Dogget_ [66.] what dost thou mean, To kill thy poor Colly, now she's so lean: _Sing Oh poor Colly_, _Colly my Cow_, _For Colly will give me_ _no more milk now_.

Pruh high, pruh hoe, Pruh high, pruh, hoe, Pruh, Pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, Tal lal daw.

I had better have kept her, till fatter she had been, For now I confess, she's a little too lean: _Sing Oh &c_--

First in comes the Tanner, with his Sword by his side, And he bids me five Shillings, for my Cow's Hide: _Sing Oh &c_

Then in comes the Tallow Chandler, whose brains were but shallow, And he bids me two and Six-pence, for my Cows Tallow: _Sing Oh &c_

Then in comes the Huntsman so early in the Morn, He bid me a Penny for my Cow's horn: _Sing Oh &c_

Then in comes the Tripe-Woman so fine and so neat, She bid me three halfpence for my Cow's feet; _Sing Oh &c_--

Then in comes the Butcher that nimble tongu'd Youth Who said she was Carrion, but he spoke not the truth: _Sing Oh &c_

This Cow had a Skin was as soft as the silk, And three times a day my poor Cow would give Milk: _Sing Oh &c_--

She every year a fine Calf me did bring, Which fetcht me a pound, for it came in the spring: _Sing Oh &c_

But now I have kill'd her, I can't her recall, I will sell my poor Colly, hide, horns and all: _Sing Oh &c_

The Butcher shall have her, though he gives but a pound; And he knows in his heart that my Colly was sound; _Sing Oh &c_

And when he has bought her, let him sell all together, The flesh for to eat, and the hide for leather: _Sing Oh &c_--

FINIS.

Printed for C. Passinger, at the seven stars in the New Buildings on London-bridge--

[17.] A Miser having a sheep stolen from him, by a poor man, would needs send him to Prison, saying there was not so damn'd a Rogue in the World; Pray, Sir, said he, _remember yourself, and be good to me_--

A Glass, when a G [12.] Is took away, I.C. Is a Lass, I mean of the Game, Put L too away, What is't then, I pray, Why, an Ass, and you are the same.

[4.] A Nobleman having a mind to be merry, sent for his Chaplain, and told him, That, unless he could resolve him these three Questions, he should be discarded, and turn'd out of his Service; but if he cou'd, he shou'd have Thirty Guinneys, and the best Horse in his Stable; So he propos'd the Questions to him, which were these; _First, what compass the World was about?_ _Secondly, How deep the Sea was?_ _And Thirdly, What he thought?_ The Poor Chaplain was in a peck of Troubles, and did not know how to answer them, or what to say, thinking them very unreasonable Questions; so that all he could do was to desire a little time to consider upon them, which the Earl granted. So he going along the Fields one day very melancholy, a Cobler of the Town, a Merry Fellow (who was very like the Chaplain, both in Physiognomy and Stature) met him, and ask'd him the reason of his sadness; which with some Reluctancy he told him: O Sir, says the Cobler, don't be dejected, chear up; I've thought of a device to save your Place, and get you the Money and Horse too; but you shall give me Ten Guinneys for my pains. So he agreed to't; and it was thus: Says he, I'll put on your Cloaths, and go to My Lord, and answer his Questions. Accordingly he went, and when he came before him, he answer'd him thus: To the first Question, _What Compass the World was about?_ He answered, _It was four and twenty hours Journey; and if a man could keep pace with the Sun, he could easily go it in that time._ To the Second, _How deep the Sea was?_ He answer'd _Only a stone's throw; for cast it into the deepest place of it, and in time it will come to the bottom._ To the third (which I fancy your Lordship thinks the most difficult to be resolv'd, but is indeed the easiest) which is; _What your Lordship thinks?_ I answer, _That you think I am your Chaplain, when as indeed I am but the Cobler of Gloucester._ The Nobleman was so pleas'd with his witty Answers, that he perform'd his Promise to his Chaplain, and gave the Cobler Ten Guinneys for his Ingenuity.

An aged Gentleman sore sick did lie, [51.] Expecting life, that could not chuse but die: His Foole came to him, and intreated thus. Good Maister, ere you goe away from us, Bestowe on _Jacke_ (that oft hath made you laffe) Against he waxeth old, your Walking-Staffe,-- I will, (quoth he) goe take it, there it is: But on condition, _Jacke_, which shall be this, If thou doe meete with any while thou live, More foole than thou, the Staffe thou shalt him give. Maister, (sayd he) upon my life I will; But I doe hope that I shall keepe it still. When Death drew neere, and faintness did proceed, His Maister called for a Devine with speed, For to prepare him unto Heaven's way. The Foole starts up, and hastily did say, Oh Maister, Maister, take your Staffe againe, That proove your selfe the most Foole of us twaine; Have you now liv'd some foure-score yeares and odd, And all this time, are unprepared for God: What greater Foole can any meete withall, Than one that's ready in the Grave to fall, And is to seeke about his soules estate, When Death is op'ning of the Prison Gate? Beare Witnesse friends, that I discharge me plaine; Heere Maister, heere, receive your Staffe againe: Upon the same condition I did take it, According as you will'd me, I forsake it: And over and above, I will bestow, This Epitaph, which shall your folly show. _Heere lyes a man, at death did Heaven clayme_, _But in his life, he never sought the same_.

[26.] A Lady in this Kingdom hearing that a Lady, that was a Person of Quality, did much long for Oysters, she then sent a Foot-man of hers, that was an _Irish_ Man, to the said Lady with a Barrel of Oysters, and as he was going, he met an Arch Wag by the way, who askt him whither he was going? Then he told him: "O. _Donniel_, says he, you must gut them before you go, or else they will Poyson the Lady; I Predde,[F. 102] says he, show me how to do it. So the Fellow took them and opened them, and took out all the Oysters and put them into a Wooden Dish that was by, and then put all the Shells again into the Barrell: _Now_, says he, _you may carry them, for they are all gutted_: _E. Fait_,[F. 103] said _Donniel_, _for this kindness, I'll give thee a pint of Wine out of the Vails that I shall have of my Lady_: but I know not how they were accepted.

[Footnote 102: Ay, prithee.]

[Footnote 103: I'faith.]

A man found his Wife [12.] To be idle all her Life, Then he beat her very sore; I did nothing, says she, I know it, says he, Which makes me to beat you therefore.

[32.] What is that no man would have, and yet when he hath it, will not forgoe it?

_Solution._ It is a broken head, or such like, for no man would gladly have a broken head, and yet when he hath it, he would be loth to loose his head, though it be broken.

To be indebted is a shame men say [5.] Then 'tis confessing of a shame to pay.

_On a certaine present sent from an Archbishop to his friend._

Mittitur in Disco, mihi Piscis ab Archiepisco [67.] Po non ponetur, quia potum non mihi detur.

_Englished thus._

There was in a dish, sent me a fish, from an Arch bish Hop I will not put heere, because hee sent me noe beere.

NEWES FROM _MORE-LANE_.

or

A mad, knavish, and uncivil Frolick of a Tapster dwelling there, who buying a fat Coult for Eighteen pence, the Mare being dead and he not knowing how to bring the Coult up by hand, killed it, and had it baked in a Pastie, and invited many of his Neighbours to the Feast and telling of them what it was: the Conceit thereof made them all Sick, as by the following ditty you shall hear.

The Tapster fil'd the Cup up to the brim, And all to make the little Coult to swim; But all that heares it sayes that for his gaine, He is no better than a Wagg in graine.

The Tune is, _A Health to the best of Men_.

There is a Tapster in _More lane_ [68.] that did a Pasty make, All People doe of him complaine, now for his grosse mistake: Hee instead of Venson fine a good fat Coult did kill, And put in store of Clarret Wine, his humour to fullfill.

A Peck of Flower at the least, with six pound of Butter, Hee made his Nighbours such a Feast and bid them all to supper: A curious fine fat Colt it was, and handled daintily: The Tapster prov'd himself an Asse, for this his knavery.

Likewise there was a Baker too, that lived in that place, And he was a pertaker too, I speak in his disgrace: For he found Flower to make it, I speak not in his praise, And afterwards did bake it, his knavery for to raise.

Likewise there was a Carman too and he found Butter for it, But when the Knavery Neighbours knew they could not but abhor it; And then there was a Cooke, Sir, at _More gate_ doth he dwell, And he then under tooke, Sir, to make the Pasty well.

Some say it eate as mellow then as any little chick, But I tell thee, good-fellow; then it made the Neighbours sick: The Tapster had his humour, but the Neighbours had the worst, Yet I doe hear they had good Beere and dainty Pastry crust.

Then every joviall Blade, Sir, that lived in that place, Their Money freely paid, Sir, they scorned to be bace: They cal'd for Beere, likewise for Ale because the Coult should swim, And of the Cup they would not faile, but fil'd it to the brim.

The Car-mans Wife cry'd out and said troath 'tis good Meat indeed, So likewise said the Chamber-maid, when she on it did feed. The Tapster bid them welcome then, and Wea-Hae did he cry You are all welcome, Gentlemen, you'r welcome hartily.

The Glover's Wife was in a heat, and did both pout and mump, Because they would not let her eat the Buttock and the Rump. As for the merry Weaver's Wife, I will give her her due, She spent her Coyne to end the strife among that joviall Crew.

This Colt was not so wholsome though as was a good fat Hogg, Yet one came in and told the crew it was a mangie Dogg! But he that told them was to blame, and was but a silly Dolt, The Tapster bid him peace for Shame for 'twas a good fat Colt.

The Colt he cost me eighteen pence, the Tapster he did say, I hope good Folks 'ere you goe hence, you for your Meate will pay. Pox take you for a Rogue quoth one, another, he fel'd oaks, Another said he was undone! 'twas worse than Harty Choaks.

The Porter he did give nine pence to have it in a Pye, The People ere they went from thence did feed most hartily: It was the joviall Baker, and knavish Tapster too, The Car-man was pertaker was not this a Joviall crew.

The Potecary he was there, _Farr_ and the Sexton too, The Tapster put them in great fear, he made them for to spue. Now was not this a knave ingrain, to use his Neighbours so, When knaves are scarce, hee'l go for twain, good People, what think you.

The Tapster he came in at last, and gave the People vomits, I hope, (quoth he,) the worst is past, I have eased your foule Stomacks; Wea-hea cry'd the Tapster then, how doe you like my sport, The Women said, so did the Men, the Devill take you for't.

At _Brainford_ as I heard some say a mangie Dog was eate: This was not halfe so bad as that, and yet the fault was great: Men of good fashon then was there that went both fine and brave Now all do say, that this doth heare, the Tapster is a knave.

FINIS.

_London_, Printed for _William Gammon_, and to be sould in _Smithfield_.

[61.] There fell a great dispute betwixt _Jockey_ a _Scotchman_, and _Jenkin_ a _Welch man_, and the subject of it was about the fruitfullnesse of their Countries, and thus _Jockey_ began. There was not a braver, fruitfuller Country in the world than _Leith_ in _Scotland_: The _Welch man_ answered him again, Picot, that was false, for there was no place so full of all sorts of fruite, as was in Wales. _Jockey_ replyed again, that he knew a piece of ground in _Scotland_ where the grass grew up so suddenly that if you throw a Staff in it over night, in that time the pasture would so over grow it, that you could not see it again the next morning. But _Jenkin_ hearing this, with a great Scorne made him this answer, Py _Saint Taffe_ that the throwing so small a thing as a Staff was nothing, for (quoth _Shinkin_) we have divers pieces of Cround in our Contry, that if you turn your Horse into them, you shall not see him next Morning.

Why do Men not agree [12.] With their Wives now we see Men now are more Learn'd, and do brawl; Tis false Concord we see For the Masculine to agree With the Feminine Gender at all.

[26.] Says a Fellow that had lost one of his Ears at _Newcastle_, for no goodness 'tis thought; when one told him a Story, 'Tis in at one ear and out at t'other. By my truth, says the other, then there's a great deal of wonder in the travel of these Tales, for thy two Ears be two hundred Miles asunder.