Part 18

[95.] That we the poor distressed Souldiery under the Parliaments Service in Ireland, having heretofore served the Parliament under the Lord Generall Essex, Valiant Massey, and noble Sir William Waller, and the rest, &c, did in all faithfulnesse, hardship and desperate service as ever any, hazzard our lives and fortunes, and did according to order obey and disband, then not so much as doubting of all our Arreares, and now have almost served you two years in all integrity and faithfulnesse both Winter and Summer, wet and dry, frost and Snow, having no other bedding than the bare ground for our beds, and the skies for their covering, and when dry in the day and night, no other signe to drink at but the Sun and Moone, and nothing but water, having no plenty, but cold backs, hungrie bellies, and puddle water, and when sore wounded, not a Surgeon to dresse us, or if a Surgeon, no chest, nor salve, nor oyntments; and for bread many times not a loafe of two pence under sixpence, and rotten Cheese sent, not fit for a dog, and for butter, it went from London to Dover, and mistook Dublin and went to Dunkirk, and for our new Cloathes all made of the French fashion, and being too little for any of us, were carried to France to cloath them, hardly hats to our heads but what our haire growes through, and neither hose or shooes, doublet or breeches, tearing our Snapsacks to patch a hole to hide our naked and starved flesh, and our swords naked for want of scabberds: Thus with our backs without cloaths and our bellies without food, and not a penny to buy anything, and the kernes having burnt all the corne and destroyed all fit for succour, we forced to march bare legged and bare footed, having neither fire nor food, we perish in misery, and our Commanders being in a manner in the same case, having nothing but good words to pay us with, shewing us often your Orders upon Orders for our pay, plentifully promising but not performing, and thus wee dropping downe dead daily in our marching, and so feeble and so weak, being not able to fight or do any more service without some supply, but all like to starve and die in misery, when all meanes is anticipated, and the Tax of 60000l. wholly ingrossed by your Army from us, and your Souldiery quartered in Kings houses, and clad Gentile like, and fed in Free-quarter to the full, and lie in good beds, and take their pleasure and ease in rest and peace.

We humbly desire our hungry bellies may once be filled, and our naked backs be cloathed, and our legs and feet be hosed and shooed, and our Surgeons once more fitted, and all recruited with food to supply us once more, that we may go out again to finish that work we have begun, and not to lie like Drones to eat up others meat, and we do not doubt, but with Gods blessing to give you a happy account of the Conquest of the whole Land, and shall ever pray for a happy Parliament.

DUBLIN: Printed by _W. B._ _1648_ (_Feb. 18. 1647_).

GOOD ALE FOR MY MONEY[F. 171]

The Good-fellowes resolution of strong Ale, That cures his nose from looking pale.

To the Tune of The Countrey Lass.

Be merry my friends, and list a while [96.] unto a merry jest, It may from you produce a smile, when you heare it exprest: Of a young man lately married, which was a boone good fellow; This song in 's head he alwaies carried, when drinke had made him mellow. _I cannot go home, nor I will not go home, it's 'long of the oyle of Barly, I'le tarry all night for my delight, and go home in the morning early._

No Tapster stout, or Vintner fine, quoth he shall ever get One groat out of this purse of mine to pay his masters debt: Why should I deal with sharking Rookes, that seeke poore guls to cozen, To give twelve pence for a quart of wine, of ale 'twill buy a dozen. _'Twill make me sing, I cannot go home &c_

The old renowned Ipocrist[F. 172] and Raspie[F. 173] doth excell, But never any wine could yet my honour please to swell: The Rhenish wine or Muscadine, sweet Malmsie is too fulsome, No, give me a cup of Barlie broth for that is very wholesome. _'Twill make me sing &c_--

Hot Waters are to me as death, and soon the head oreturneth, And Nectar hath so strong a breath Canary when it burneth. It cures no paine but breakes the braine, and raps out oathes and curses, And makes men part with heavie heart, but light it makes their purses. _I cannot go home &c_

Some say Metheglin[F. 174] beares the name, with Perry and sweet Sider, 'Twill bring the body out of frame, and reach the belly wider: Which to prevent I am content with Ale that's good and nappie, And when thereof I have enough, I thinke myselfe most happy. _I cannot go home &c_

All sorts of men when they do meet, both trade and occupation, With curtesie each other greet, and kinde humiliation: A good coale fire is their desire, whereby to sit and parly, They'le drinke their ale and tell a tale and go home in the morning early. _I cannot go home &c_

Your domineering swaggering blades, and Cavaliers that flashes, That throw the Jugs against the walls, and break in peeces glasses. When Bacchus round cannot be found, they will in merriment Drink ale and beere and cast of care, and sing with one consent. _I cannot go home &c_

Lawrence Price.

Printed at London.

[Footnote 171: For tune, see Appendix. _The Country Lass_ is identical with _Stingo_.]

[Footnote 172: Hippocras, a compound of wine, sugar, and spice mixed and strained through a cloth.]

[Footnote 173: Or raspis--raspberry wine.]

[Footnote 174: A mixture of honey and water, boiled and fermented.]

[52.] A notable yong Rogue, having plaid some notable knavish pranke, was for the offence to be whipt, and as hee was ready to be tied to the Cart, hee said to the Beadle that should whip him; Here is ten Shillings for thee, I pray thee use mee kindly, and deale not too cruelly with me: to whom the Beadle promised great curtesie; but being tied fast to the Cart, hee whipt him very severely. The fellow called unto him, and bad him remember his promise: What knave (quoth the Beadle) do'st prate and talke, and knowest not the Law. Afterward being released he bethought himselfe how he might be revenged on the Beadle, and seeing him stand in the Market, pickes a pocket, and puts the purse into the Beadles pocket, and goes to the fellow, from whom he had stolne the purse, saying, Friend, do you misse nothing? who presently cryed out, saying He had lost his purse. Yonder Beadle hath it (quoth hee) and you shall finde it in his pocket, I saw him take it. The man that had lost his purse goes unto the Beadle, and apprehended him, for his purse, who utterly denied he had it, neither knew of any such matter. But being found about him, he was condemned to die for it. The pick-pocket being imprisoned againe for some small fault desired he might be hangman that day, and it being granted: When the Beadle came to be hanged, Sirrah (quoth the pick pocket) do you remember how you whipt me the other day when I gave you ten shillings? I. (quoth the Beadle) I pray thee forgive me, I am now ready to dye. I. sirrah (quoth hee) thank me for it, for I pickt the purse and put it in your pocket. With that the Beadle began to cry aloud, saying, Hold, hold. What, knave, (quoth the pick pocket) do'st talke and prate, and knowest not the Law. And so he turned him beside the ladder.

[17.] A fat man riding upon a lean horse, was ask'd, Why he was so fat, and the horse so lean? said: Because I look to myself, and my man to my horse.

[4.] A Blind Minister coming to speak with a Gentleman, the Gentleman's man came running to him, and told him that the blind Minister was come _to see him_.

The very rare book from which the accompanying illustration is taken is not of interest to the general reader. It is a dialogue between the miller and those who bring their wives, etc., to be ground young again; but the woodcut itself is very curious as a caricature.

[97.] [Illustration]

[26.] Another Fellow said that he had heard all their stories, and did think at first that some of them had been untruths, but now, says he, I am better satisfied; and I will tell you what I know upon my own knowledge. I was once in some company where I heard one of them say that to his knowledge a Raven would live a hundred years: so the next day I went and bought me one purposely to make a Tryal, and put him into a Cage and taught him to sing; and I think in my Conscience no Bird but a Raven could sing like him. Well, says he, I kept this Bird above a hundred years; nay, if I should say two hundred, I should not lie, (and fed him all the time myself.) At last being very tame I turn'd him out of the Cage and put him into a Room, where I had only a Goose, but never a Gander for her: I know not how it happened, but the Raven and the Goose fell in league together (for you must know 'twas a Cock Raven,) and she brought ten young ones, all coloured half black, and half white; and those Five which were black towards the head cry'd just like a Raven, and those that were white towards the head, cry'd like Geese, and I eat one of the former, that was black towards the head; and, if you'll believe me, I have had ever since such a strange croaking in my Stomach, especially if I see any Carrion, that 'tis a great disturbance to me: Nay, one of my Neighbours upon some occasion call'd my Wife _Carrion_; and though I did not love her before; yet ever since I have had a great kindness for her. Then they told him that the strangness of this story made it true, and the Proverb makes it good, that is _'Tis not so strange as true_.

The following caricature of _Shrovetide_, which has more artistic merit than most similar productions, has a companion in _Lent_, which, however, not being able to procure the original, I do not give.

_SHROVETYDE._

Fatte _Shrovetyde_ mounted on a good fatt _Oxe_, [98.] Suppos'd that _Lent_ was mad, or caught a _Foxe_,[F. 175] Armd _Cap a pea_ from head unto the heele, A Spit, his long sword, somewhat worse than steele, (Sheathed in a fatt Pigge, and a Peece of Porke) His bottles fil'd with Wine, well stopt with Corke. The two plump Capons fluttering at his Crupper, And's shoulders lac'd with Sawsages for Supper; The Gridir'n (like a well strung Instrument) Hung at his backe, and for the Turnament His Helmet is a Brasse Pott, and his Flagge A Cookes foule Apron, which the wind doth wagg, Fixd to a Broome, thus bravely he did ride, And boldly to his foe, he thus replyde. What art thou, thou leane jawde Annatamie All spirit (for I no flesh upon thee spie) Thou bragging peece of ayre and smoake that prat'st, And all good fellowship and friendship hat'st. You'le turne our feasts to fasts, when, can you tell Against your spight, we are provided well. Thou sayst thou'lt ease the Cookes, the Cooks could wish Thee boyld, or broyld with all thy froathy fish, For one fish dinner takes more paines and cost Than three of flesh, bak'd, roast or boyld, almost. Youle take away our playes, our sports and pleasure, And give the Butchers time for ease and leasure. Alasse poor scabbe, how barren are thy hopes The Fencers, Beares, and Dauncers on the Ropes, Is manly sport, or lawlesse recreation Which all thy sev'n weeks time, are still in fashion, The truth is, thou aswagest few mens hunger, And hast no faithfull friend but the Fishmonger. There's little danger to attend on me, When men are drownd at Sea to furnish thee. Pease pottage, and dryde beanes, by proofe we find, Offends and fills men with unwholsome wind, And ere I'le be a slave and pinch my maw I'le breake all Proclamation, rule and Law, Wee'le fill our Tubs with powdred flesh, beside By licenc't Butchers we will be supplyde With fresh meat; so hungry _Lent_ adieu, We are resolv'd to feed in spight of you.

FINIS

LONDON

Printed by M. S. for _Thomas Jenner_, and are to be sold at his Shop at the South Entrance of the Royal Exchange 1660.

[Footnote 175: _I.e._ foxed or drunk.]

[93.] _George_ (_Peele_) was not so merry at London with his Capons and Claret, as poore _Anthony_ the Barber was sorrowfull at Brainford for the losse of his Lute, & therefore determined to come to London to seeke out _George Peele_, which by the meanes of a Kinsman that _Anthony Nit_ had in London, his name was _Cuts or Feats_, a Fellow that had good skill in tricks on the Cards, and he was well acquainted with the place where _George's_ common abode was, and for kindred sake he directed the Barber where he should have him, which was at a blinde Ale house in Sea-cole Lane.[F. 176] There he found _George_ in a greene Jerkin, a Spanish platter fashioned Hat, all alone with a Pecke of Oysters. The Barber's heart danc'd within him for joy he had so happily found him; he gave him the time of the day. _George_ not a little abashed at the sight of the Barber, yet went not to discover it openly; he that at all times had a quicke invention, was not now behind hand to entertaine my Barber, who knew for what his comming was. _George_ thus saluted him, My honest Barber, quoth _George_, welcome to London, I partly know your businesse, you come for your Lute, doe you not? Indeed Sir, quoth the Barber, for that is my comming. And beleeve me, quoth _George_, you shall not lose your labour, I pray you stand to, and eat an oyster, and I'le go with you presently: For a Gentleman in the Citie of great worship, borrowed it of me for the use of his Daughter, that plays exceeding well, and had a great desire to have the Lute; but, Sir, if you will goe along with me to the Gentlemans house, you shall have your Lute with great satisfaction, for had you not come, I assure you I had sent to you; for you must understand that all that was done at Brainford among us mad Gentlemen, was but a jest, and no otherwise. Sir, I think not any otherwise, quoth the Barber, but I would desire your worship, that as you had it of me in lone, so in kindnesse you would helpe me to it againe. What else, quoth _George_, Ile goe with thee presently, even as I am, for I came from hunting this morning, and should I go up to the certain Gentlemen above, I should hardly get away. I thank you Sir, quoth the Barber, so on goes _George_ with him in his greene Jerkin, a wand in his hand very pretty, till he came almost to the Alderman's House, where, making a sodaine stay, Afore God, quoth _George_, I must crave thy pardon at this instant, for I have bethought myselfe, should I go as I am, it would be imagined I had had some of my Lords hounds out this morning, therefore I'le take my leave of thee, and meet thee where thou wilt about one of the Clock. Nay good Sir, quoth the Barber, goe with me now, for I purpose, God willing, to be at Brainford tonight. Saist thou so, quoth _George_, why then I'le tell thee what thou shalt doe, thou art here a stranger, and altogether unknowne, lend me thy Cloake and thy Hat, and doe thou put on my greene Jerken, and I'le goe with thee directly along. The Barber, unwilling to leave him untill he had his Lute, yeelded to the change. So when they came to the Gentleman's porch he put on _George's_ greene Jerken and his Spanish Hat: and he the Barbers Cloake, and his Hat; either of them being thus fitted, _George_ knocks at the doore, to whom the Porter bids heartily welcome, for _George_ was well knowne, who at that time had all the oversight of the Pageants, he desires the Porter to bid his friend welcome, for he is a good fellow and a keeper, Master Porter, one that at his pleasure can bestow a haunch of Venison on you: Marry that can I, quoth the Barber. I thank you Sir, answered the Porter, Master _Peele_, my Master is in the Hall, pleaseth it you to walke in? With all my heart, quoth _George_, in the meane time let my friend beare you company. That he shall, Master _Peele_, quoth the Porter, and if it please him he shall take a simple dinner with me. The Barber gives him harty thankes, nothing doubting Master _Peele_ any way, seeing him knowne, and himselfe so welcome, fell in Chat with the Porter. _George Peele_ goes directly to the Alderman, who now is come into the Court in the eye of the Barber, where _George_ after many complaints, drawes a black paper out of his bosome, & making action to the Barber, reads to the Alderman as followeth, I humbly desire your worship to stand my friend in a sleight matter; yonder hard favoured knave, that sits by your Worship's Porter, hath dog'd me to arrest me, and I had no other meanes but to take your Worship's house for shelter; the occasion is but triviall, onely for stealing of a piece of flesh, myselfe consorted with three or foure gentlemen of good fashion, that would not willingly have our names come in question. Therefore this is my boone, that your Worship would let one of your servants let me out at the Garden doore, and I shall think myselfe much indebted to your Worship. The kind Gentleman, little dreaming of _George Peele's_ deceit, took him into the Parlor, gave him a brace of Angels, & caused one of his servants to let _George_ out at the Garden doore, which was no sooner opened, but _George_ made way for the Barber seeing him any more, and all the way he went, could not choose but laugh at his knavish conceit; how he had guld the simple Barber, who sat all this while with the Porter, blowing of his nayles; to whom came this fellow that let _George_ out. You whorson Keeperly Rascall, quoth the fellow, dare you come any honest Gentleman in my Masters house? Not I, so God helpe me, quoth the Barber, I pray Sir where is the Gentleman Master _Peele_ that came along with me? Farre enough, quoth the Fellow, for your comming neere him, he is gone out at the Garden doore. Garden doore? quoth the Barber, Sir, I am no Keeper, I am quite undone: I am a Barber dwelling at Brainford, and, with weeping teares, up and told him how _George_ had used him. The servant goes in & tels his Master; which when he heard, he could not but laugh at the first: yet in pitty of the poore Barber, he gave him twenty shillings towards his losse. The Barber, sighing, tooke it, and towards Brainford home he goes, and whereas hee came from thence in a new Cloake and a faire Hat, hee went home weeping in an old Hat, and a greene Jerken.

The accompanying illustration is taken from a tract, in itself of no literary merit or humour, but the picture is amusing, representing a "Brown[F. 177] Dozen of Drunkards, ali-ass Drink-haros, Jocoseriously descanted to our wine drunk, wrath drunk, and zeale drunk staggering times."

[99.] [Illustration]

[Footnote 176: This lane was between Snow Hill and Fleet Lane.]

[Footnote 177: Most probably meant for a _round_ dozen, or baker's dozen, as there are thirteen depicted and thirteen characters in the tract.]

[94.] A drunken fellow returning home towards evening, found his wife hard at her spinning; she reproving him for his ill husbandry, and commending herself for her good huswifery, he told her that she had no great cause to chide, for as she had been spinning, he came home all the way reeling.

There was a man bespake a thing, [91.] Which when the owner home did bring, He that made it did refuse it, And he that bought it would not use it, And he that hath it doth not know, Whether he hath it, I, or no.

_Resolution_ A Coffin bought by another for a dead man.

[86.] One affirmed that he had been in a certain Country, where their Bees were as big as our Sheep. This impudent lye one began to examine, and therefore said, sure then the Bee-hives must be of a huge bignesse; No, saith the other, they are no bigger than ours; How then can they get in? said one. This bogled[F. 178] the lyar like a Mouse in pitch; at last he answered, let them whom it concerns look to that.

[Footnote 178: Puzzled, bothered.]

A Health to all Good-Fellowes:

or

The good Companions Arithmaticke.

To the Tune of, _To drive the cold Winter away_.

Be merry my hearts, and call for your quarts, and let no liquor be lacking, We have gold in store, we purpose to roare, untill we set care a packing. Then Hostis make haste, and let no time waste, let every man have his due, To save shooes and trouble, bring in the pots double, for he that made one made two.

I'le drink up my drinke, and speak what I thinke, strong drinke will make us speake truely, We cannot be termed all drunkards confirmed, so long as we are not unruly. Wee'le drinke and be civill, intending no evill, if none be offended at me, As I did before, so I'le adde one more, and he that made two made three.

The greedy Curmudgin sits all the day snudging[F. 179] at home with browne bread and small beare, To Coffer up wealth, he starveth himselfe, scarce eats a good meale in a yeare. But I'le not do so, how ere the world go so long as I have money in store I scorne for to faile, go fil us more Ale, for he that made three made four.

Why sit you thus sadly, because I call madly, I meane not to leave in the lurch, My reckoning Ile pay ere I go away, else hang me as high as a Church. Perhaps you will say, this is not the way, they must pine that in this world will thrive, No matter for that, wee'le laugh and be fat, for he that made foure made five.

To those my good friends my love so extends, I cannot truely expresse it; When with you I meet, your words are so sweet, I am unwilling to misse it. I hate all base slaves that their money saves, and all those that use base tricks, For with joviall blades, I'm merry as the Maids, for he that made five made six.

Then drink about round till sorrow be dround, and let us sing hey downe a derry, I cannot endure, to sit thus demure, for hither I came to be merry. Then plucke up a good heart before we depart, with my Hostesse we will make it even, For I am set a madding, and still will be adding, for he that made six made seven.

Sad mellancholly will bring us to folly, and this is deaths principall magent, (_sic_) But this course I will take, it never shall make me looke otherwise than an agent. And in more content my time shall be spent, and I'le pay every man his right, Then hostesse go fill, and stand not so still, for he that made seven made eight.

At home I confesse, with my wife honest _Besse_, I practise good husbandry well, I follow my calling, to keep me from falling; my neighbours about me that dwell Wil praise me at large for maintaining my charge, but when I to drinking incline I scorne for to shrinke, go fetch us more drinke, for he that made eight made nine.

Then while we are here, wee'le drinke Ale & Beer, and freely our money wee'le spend, Let no man take care, for paying his share, if need be I'le pay for my friend. Then Hostesse make haste, and let no time waste, you're welcome all, kind Gentlemen, Never fear to Carowse, while there is beere in the house, for he that made nine made ten.

Then Hostesse be quicker, and bring us more liquor, and let no attendance be missing, I cannot content me, to see the pot empty, a full cup is well worth the kissing. Then Hostesse go fetch us some, for till you do come, we are of all joyes bereaven, You know what I mean, make haste, come again, for he that made ten, made eleven.