Part 26

[105.] After a while _Scogin_ came to London, hee married a young woman, taking her for a maid, as other men doe. At last he thought to prove his wife, and fained himselfe sicke. Oh good wife, saies he, I will shew you a thing, and if you will promise me to conceale it. She said, Sir, you may tell mee what you will, I were worse than accursed, if I should disclose your counsell: O wife, said _Scogin_, I had a great pang to day in my sicknesse, for I did parbrake,[F. 230] and cast out a Crow. A Crow? said shee. Yea, said _Scogin_, God helpe me. Be of good comfort said she, you shall recover and doe well. Well wife, said _Scogin_, goe to Church and pray for me: shee went to the Church, and by & by one of her gossips met with her and asked how her husband did. I wis,[F. 231] said she, a sore sick man he is, and like to die, for there is an evill signe and token in him. What is that, Gossip? said shee. Nay, by gisse,[F. 232] I will not tell it to any man alive. What, said the woman, you may tell me, for I will never bewray your counsell. By gisse, said _Scogin's_ wife, if I wist that you wold keep my counsel, I wold tel you. Then said the woman, whatsoever you doe tell, I will lay it dead under my feet. Oh, said _Scogins_ wife, my husband parbraked two Crowes. Jesus, said the woman, I never heard of such a thing. This woman as she did meet with another gossip of hers, shewed that _Scogin_ had parbraked three Crowes. So it went on from one gossip to another, that ere Mattens were finished, all the parish knew that _Scogin_ had parbraked twenty Crowes. And when the Priest was ready to goe into the Pulpit, one came to request him and all the Parish to pray for _Scogin_, for he had parbraked twenty Crowes. The Priest blessed him and said to the Parishioners, I doe pray you pray for Scogin, for he is in perill of his life, and hath parbraked 21 Crowes. By and by one went to _Scogin_, and said, Sir, is it as it is spoken in the Church of you? What is that, said _Scogin_. The Priest said in the Pulpit that you parbraked 21 Crowes. Said _Scogin_, what a lie is this? By & by the bels were told for sacring, and _Scogin_ hied him to Church, lustily and merry, and when the men and women did see him in the Church, they looked upon one another, and marvelled of this matter. After Masse, _Scogin_ asked what were they that they should bring such a tale upon him. At last the matter was so boulted out, that the original of the cause began at Scogins wife.

[Footnote 230: Or parbreak, to vomit.]

[Footnote 231: Suppose or think.]

[Footnote 232: An oath, a corruption of _Jesus_.]

[17.] A poor Countrey Boy came up to _London_ to be an Apprentice to a Cobler, and seeing the Lord Mayors show, and hearing that Sir _Simon Eyre_ who formerly was Lord Mayor, had been apprentice to a Shoemaker; one said to him, Is not this a brave show: I, says the Boy, _'tis this we must all come to_.

[4.] A silly old fellow meeting his God son, ask'd whither he was going? To School, said the Boy: That's well, said he, there's a Penny for you; Be a good Boy, and mind your Book, and I hope I shall live to hear thee Preach my Funeral Sermon.

[94.] It was said by one, that a Hangman had a contemplative Profession, because he was never at work, but he was put in minde of his own end.

[94.] Why do Ladies so affect slender wastes, said one? 'Tis (replied another) because their Expences may not be too great.

[67.] John Hall, beeing in a sheete (of printing, or writing) called, Knave, is said to have Carried it to y^e Vice Ch.(ancellor) Dr Gouch to complaine, who beeing walking in his garden, and vexed that hee would trouble him w^{th} such a frivolous matter, tare y^e sheete & cast it abroad. John gathers up all ye pieces: y^e D^r demanded why? Hee answered, I would bee loth to leave y^e Knave in your worship's garden.

[94.] One commending a Taylor for his dexterity in his Profession; another standing by, ratified his opinion, saying, _Taylors had their business at their fingers ends_.

The Bad-Husbands Folly

or

Poverty made known.

A Man may waste and spend away his store, But if misery comes he has no help therefore, This man that brought himself into decay, Shews other Good fellows that they go not astray.

To the Tune of _Come hither my own sweet Duck_.

To all Good-Fellows now, [120.] I mean to sing a Song, I have wrought my own decay, and have done myself great wrong: In following the Ale-house, I have spent away my store, _Bad Company did me undo, but i'le do so no more._

That man that haunts the Ale house, and likewise the Drunken Crew, Is in danger to dye a Beggar, without any more ado; Would I might be an Example to all Good fellows sure; _Bad Company &c_

I had a fair Estate of Land, was worth forty pound a year, I sold and Mortgaged all that, and spent it in strong Beer: My wife and friends could not rule me, until I did wax poor. _Bad Company &c_

I came unto my Hostis, and called for Liquor apace, She saw my money was plenty, and she smiled in my face: If I said fill a Flaggon, they set two upon the score, _Bad Company &c_

I ranted night and day, and I let my Money flye, While my wife was almost dead with grief to hear her Children cry: For they were almost starv'd and pin'd they wanted food so sore. _Bad Company &c_

At two a Clock i' th' morn I would come Drunken home, And if my wife spoke but a word, I'de kick her about the Room; And domineer and swear, and call her ---- and ----. _Bad Company &c_

Then I fell sick upon the same, and lay three months and more, But never an Alewife in the Town, would come within my door: But my poor wife was my best friend, and stuck to me therefore. _Bad Company &c_

My wife she sold her Petticoat, and pawn'd her Wedding Ring, To relieve me in my misery, in any kind of thing: O was not I a woful man, to waste and spend my store, _And let my wife & children want at home but I'le do so no more._

When I began to mend a little, I walke to take the air, And as I went along the Town, I came by my Hostises door: I askt her for to trust me two-pence, she denyed me the more, _The Money that I have spent with her, but I'le do so no more._

As soon as I get strength agen i'le fall to work apace, To maintain my wife and children, for my Hostises are base: I see who is a mans best friend, if he be sick or poor. _Bad Company &c_

And when I do get money agen, I'le learn for to be wise, And not believe that Drunken Crew, that filled my ears with lyes: And carry it home unto my wife and of my Children take more care. _Bad Company &c_

He runs a very long Race that never turns again; And brings himself unto disgrace, and has poverty for his pain; But now I will be careful sure, and forgo the Ale-house door. _Bad Company &c_

Now to conclude and make an end what I have put in Rhime, That all Good-fellows they may se to mend their lives in time: And learn for to be Thrifty, to save something by in store. _Bad Company &c._

Printed for I. Deacon, at the Angel in Guilt Spur street, without Newgate.

[110.] There dwelled not farre from Maister _Hobson_, two very ancient women, the youngest of them both was above three score yeares of age, and uppon a time sitting at the taverne together, they grew at varience which of them should be the youngest (as women, indeede, desier to be accompted younger than they be) in such manner that they layd a good supper, of the valew of twenty shillings, for the truth thereof, and Maister _Hobson_ they agreed upon to be their Judge of the difference. So after Maister _Hobson_ had knowledge thereof, the one came to him, and as a present gave him a very faire pidgion pye, worth some five shillings, desiering him to passe the vardet[F. 233] of her side; within a while after, the other came, and gave Maister _Hobson_ a very faire grayhound, which kind of dogges he much delighted in: praying him likewise to be favorable on her side, wherefore hee gave judgment that the woman that gave him the grayhound was the yonger, and so she wonn the supper of twenty shillings, Which she perceiving, came to him and sayd, Sir, I gave you a pidgion pie, and you promised the verdit should goe on my side. To whome Maister _Hobson_ said, of a truth, good woman, there came a grayhound into my house, and eate up the pidgion pye, and so by that meanes I quite forgot thee.

[Footnote 233: Verdict.]

[103.] A Soldier Quartering in Cambridge, often observ'd a Young Country Wench that Sold Piggs a Market Days, whereupon he went to her, and desir'd to see some of her Pigs, she having several, he said, he would have one alive, so she shewed him one that she had in a Bag. Well, Sweet heart, said he, I live hard by, I will go and shew the Pig to my Captain; if he like it, you shall have three shillings for it, but in the mean time I will leave the Money with you; thus having got the Pig tied up in the Bag, he went to his Lodging, and put in a Dog in the Bag instead of it, and returning quickly to the Damsel, said his Captain did not like the Pig, and therefore she took the Bag without looking into it, and gave him his Money again. Not long after came a French man in haste to buy a Pig, and he not liking those that were dead, would have a live One; Sir, said she, I have one of the same bigness alive, the Price of it is three Shillings, I will not sell it a Farthing Cheaper; well, said he, if you will not, here is your Money, but how shall I carry it? Why, for a Groat you shall have the Poke and all. Poke, what is dat? said Monsieur. 'Tis a Bag. Is dat de Poke? well here's a Groat. Thus away he goes with his Bargain home, but when he comes to look in the Poke, he see the Dog, O de diable, (said he) is dis de Pig? de Dible take me, if I do buy Pig in de Poke agen.

_The Brewer._[F. 234]

Of all the trades that ever I see, [121.] Theres none to the Brewer compared may be; For so many several wayes works he, _Which nobody can deny_.

A Brewer may put on a noble face, And come to the wars with such a grace, That he may obtain a Captains place; _Which nobody can deny_.

A Brewer may speak so learnedly well, And raise such stories for to tell, That he may be come a Colonel; _Which &c_

A Brewer may be a Parliament man, For so his knavery first began, And work the most cunning plots he can; _Which &c_

A Brewer may be so bold a Hector, That when he has drunk a cup of Nectar He may become a Lord Protector; _Which &c_

A Brewer may do all these things, you see, Without controul, nay he may be Lord Chancellor of the University: _Which &c_

A Brewer may sit like a Fox in his cub, And preach a Lecture out of a tub, And give the world a wicked rub; _Which &c_

But here remaines the strangest thing, How he about his plots did bring, That he should be Emperour above a King; _Which no body can deny, deny; Which no body dares deny._

[Footnote 234: A satire on Oliver Cromwell.]

[17.] Two Gentlemen riding from _Shipton_ to _Burford_ together, and seeing the Miller of _Burford_ riding softly before on his sacks, resolved to abuse him; so one went on one side of him, and t'other on the other, saying Miller, now tell us, which art thou, more Knave or Fool? Truly, says he, I know not which I am most but I think _I am between both_.

[105.] On a time as _Scogin_ was riding to the Abbot of Bury, hee asked of a Cowheard how far it was to Bury. The Cowheard said twenty miles. May I, said _Scogin_, ride thither to night: yea, said the Cowheard, if you ride not too fast, and also if you ride not a good pace, you will be wet ere you come halfe waye there. As _Scogin_ was riding on his way, he did see a cloud arise that was blacke, and being afraid to be wet, he spurred his horse and did ride a great pace, and riding so fast, his horse stumbled and strained his leg, and might not goe. _Scogin_ revolving in his mind the Cowheards words, did set up his horse at a poore mans house, and returned to the Cowheard, supposing that he had beene a good Astronomer, because hee said, if you ride not too fast, you may be at Bury tonight, and alsoe if you doe not ride fast you shal be wet ere you come there. _Scogin_ said to the Cowheard, what shall I give thee to tell mee, when I shall have raine or faire weather? There goeth a bargain, said the Cowheard: what wilt thou give me? _Scogin_ said, Twenty shillings. Nay, said the Cowheard, for forty Shillings I will tell you and teach you, but I will be paid first. Hold the money, said _Scogin_. The Cowheard said, Sir, doe you see yonder Cow with the cut tail? Yea, said _Scogin_. Sir, said the Cowheard, when that she doth begin to set up her rumpe, and draw to a hedge or bush, within an houre after we shall have raine: therefore take the Cow with you, and keepe her as I doe, and you shall ever be sure to know when you shall have faire weather or foule. Nay, said _Scogin_ keepe thy Cow still, and give me twenty shillings of my mony. That is of my gentlenes saith the Cowheard, howbeit you seeme to bee an honest man, there is twenty Shillings.

JOAN'S Ale is New;[F. 235] OR:

A new merry Medley, shewing the power, the strength, the operation, and the vertue that remains in good Ale, which is accounted the Mother-drink of _England_.

All you that do this merry Ditty view, Taste of _Joan's_ Ale, for it is strong and new.

To a pleasant New Northern Tune.

There was a jovial Tinker, [122.] Which was a good Ale Drinker, He never was a shrinker, believe me this is true. And he came from the wild[F. 236] of Kent, When all his money was gone and spent, Which made him like a Jack a Lent. _And Jones Ale is new, And Jones Ale is new Boys, And Jones Ale is new._

The Tinker he did settle, Most like a man of Mettle, And vow'd to pawn his Kettle, now mark what did ensue. His Neibors they flockt in apace, To see Tom Tinker's comely face, Where they drank soundly for a space, _Whilst Jones Ale &c_

The Cobler and the Broom-man, Came next into the room man, And said they would drink for boon man let each one take his due. But when good liquor they found, They cast their caps upon the ground And to the Tinker they drank round; _Whilst Jones Ale &c_

The Rag man he being weary, With the bundle he did carry, He swore he would be merry, and spend a shilling or two. And he told his Hostis to her face, The Chimney Corner was his place And he began (to) drink apace. _And Jones Ale &c_

The Pedler he grew nigher, For it was his desire, To throw the Rags i'th' fire, and burn the bundle blew. So whilst they drank whole flashes, And threw about the Glasses, The rags were burnt to ashes, _And Jones Ale &c_

And then came in a Hatter, To see what was the matter, He scorned to drink cold water, amongst that Jovial crew. And like a man of courage stout, He took the quart-pot by the snout, And never left till all was out, _O Jones Ale &c_

The Taylor being nimble With Bodkin, Shears, and Thimble, He did no whit dessemble, I think his name was _True_ He said that he was like to choak, And called so fast for lap and smoak, Until he had pawned his Vinegar Cloake, _For Jones Ale &c_

Then came a pittiful Porter, Which often did resort there, Quoth he i'le shew some sport here, amongst this jovial crew. The Porter he had very bad luck, Before that it was ten o'clock, The fool got drunk and lost his frock, _For Jones Ale &c._

The bony brave Shoomaker, A brave Tobacco taker, He scorned to be a Quaker I think his name was _Hugh_. He called for liquor in so fast, Till he forgot his Awl and Last, And up the reckonings he did cast, _Whilst Jones Ale &c_

And then came in the Weaver, You never saw a braver, With a Silk-man, and a Glover, _Tom Tinker_ for to view And so to welcome him to Town, They every man spent half a crown, And so the drink went merrily down, _For Jones Ale &c_

Then came a drunken _Dutchman_, And he would have a touch, man, But he soon took too much, man, which made them after rue. He drank so long as I suppose, Till greasie drops fell from his nose, And like a beast befoul'd his hose, _Whilst Jones Ale &c_

A Welshman he came next, Sir, With joy and sorrow mixt Sir, Who being partly vext Sir, he out his dagger drew. Cuts-plutter-a-nails, quoth _Taffie_ then, A Welshman is a Shentleman Come Hostis fill's the other Can, _For Jones Ale &c._

Thus like to men of courage stout, Courageously they drank about, Till such time all the ale was out, as I may say to you. And when the business was done, They every man departed home, And promised Jone again to come, when she had brew'd anew.

FINIS.

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray and T. Passinger.

[Footnote 235: For tune, see Appendix.]

[Footnote 236: Weald.]

[17.] A Shoomaker thought to mock a Collier being black, saying, What news from Hell? how fares the Devil? Faith, says the Collier, he was just riding forth as I came thither, and wanted nothing _but a Shoomaker to pluck on his boots_.

[123.][Illustration: THE SCOTS HOLDING THEIR YOVNG KINGES NOSE TO Y^E GRINSTO^{NE}

_Come to the Grinstone Charles tis now to late To Recolect, tis presbiterian fate You Couinant pretenders must I bee The subiect of youer Tradgie Comedie._

Jockie

"Stoope Charles."]

The date of this curious political caricature is 14th July 1651. It must be remembered that Charles II. was crowned at Scone on 1st January 1651, and this satire deals with the behaviour of the Scots towards their young monarch. It is too long to give _in extenso_, but the following will give a fair idea of its tenor. Above the illustration are printed these lines:--

_Jockey._ "I. Jockey turne the stone of all your plots, For none turns faster than the turne-coat Scots

_Presbytor._ We for our ends did make thee King, be sure Not to rule us, we will not that endure.

_King._ You deep dissemblers, I know what you doe, And for revenges sake, I will dissemble too."

On either side of the print is a long poem, of which I will only give the commencement:--

"This Embleme needs no learned Exposition, The World knows well enough the sad condition Of Regall Power, and Prerogative Dead, and dethron'd in _England_, now alive In _Scotland_, where they seem to love the Lad, If hee'l be more obsequious than his Dad. And Act according to Kirk Principles, More subtile than were Delphick Oracles. For let him lye, dissemble, kill and slay, Hee's a good Prince that will the Kirk obey," etc. etc.

[110.] Upon a new yeares day Maister _Hobson_ sitting at dinner in a Poets Company, or one, as you may tearme him, a writer of histories, there came a poore man and presented him a cople of orringes, which hee kindly tooke as a new yeares guift, and gave the poore man for the same, an angell of goold, and there upon gave it to his wife to lay it up among his other jewels, considering that it had likewise cost him an Angel, the which she did. The Poet sitting by, and marking the bounty of Ma. _Hobson_ for so small a matter, he went home, and devised a booke contayning forty sheets of paper, which was halfe a yeare in writing, and came and gave it to Maister _Hobson_ in dedication, and thought in his mind, that he, in recompencing the poore man so much for an orringe, would yeeld far more recompence for his booke, being so long in studying. Maister _Hobson_ tooke the Poets booke thankfully, and perseving he did it onely for his bounty shewed for the orringe given him: willed his wife to fetch the said orringe, which he gave to the Poet, being then almost rotten, saying, here is a jewel which cost me a thousand times the worth in gould, therefore I think thou art well satisfied for thy bookes dedication: the poet seeing this, went his way all a shamed.

[26.] A deaf Man was selling Pears at the Towns end in _S^t Gileses_, and a Gentleman riding out o' th' Town, askt him what 'twas a Clock? He said Ten a Penny, Master: Then he askt him agen what 'twas a Clock? He told 'em indeed he could afford no more. You Rogue, says he, I'll kick you about the streets. Then says the man, _Sir, if you won't, another will_.

[4.] A woman coming to a Parson, desir'd him to preach a Funeral Sermon on her Son that was lately dead; the Parson promised her to do it; but she desiring to know the Price of his Sermon; he told her it was Twenty Shillings. Twenty Shillings! says she, An Ass spoke for an Angel, and won't you speak under Twenty Shillings? The Parson being a little netled at her, told her she was better fed than taught. Sir, says she, 'tis very true; for my Husband feeds me, and You teach me.

[93.] _George_ (_Peele_) was at Bristow, and there staying somewhat longer than his coyne would last him, his Palfrey that should bee his Carrier to London, his head was growne so big, that he could not get him out of the stable; it so fortuned at that instant, certaine Players came to the Towne, and lay at that Inne where _George Peele_ was: to whom _George_ was well knowne, being in that time an excellent Poet, and had acquaintance of most of the best Players in England; from the triviall sort hee was but so so; of which these were, only knew _George_ by name, no otherwise. There was not past three of the Companie come with the Carriage, the rest were behinde, by reason of a long Journey they had; so that night they could not enact; which _George_ hearing, had presently a Stratageme in his head, to get his Horse free out of the stable, and Money in his Purse to beare his charges up to London. And thus it was: Hee goes directly to the Maior, tels him he was a Scholler and a Gentleman, and that he had a certaine Historie of the Knight of the Rodes; and withall, how Bristow was first founded, and by whom, and a briefe[F. 237] of all those that before him had succeeded in Office in that worshipfull Citie: desiring the Maior, that he, with his presence, and the rest of his Brethren, would grace his labors. The Maior agreed to it, gave him leave, and withall appointed him a place: but for himselfe, hee could not be there, being in the evening: but bade him make the best benefit he could of the Citie; and very liberally gave him an Angell, which _George_ thankfully receives, and about his businesse he goes, got his Stage made, his Historey cryed, and hyred the Players Apparell, to furnish out his Shew, promising to pay them liberally; and withall desired them they would favour him so much, as to gather him his money at the doore; (for hee thought it his best course to imploy them, lest they should spie out his knaverie; for they have perillous heads.) They willingly yeeld to doe him any kindnes that lyes in them; in briefe, carry their apparell in the Hall, place themselves at the doore, where _George_ in the meane time, with the tenne shillings he had of the Maior, delivered his Horse out of Purgatorie, and carries him to the Townes end, and there placeth him, to be ready at his comming. By this time the Audience were come, and some forty shillings gathered, which money _George_ put in his purse, and putting on one of the Players Silke Robes, after the trumpet had sounded thrice, out he comes, makes low obeysance, goes forward with his Prologue, which was thus: