Humour, Wit, & Satire of the Seventeenth Century
Part 28
Sir _Francis_, Sir _Francis_, Sir _Francis_ his Son, [121.] Sir _Robert_ and eke Sir _William_ did come, And eke the good Earl of _Southampton_ March't on his way most gallantly; And then the Queen began to speak, Youre welcome home Sir _Francis Drake_. Then came my Lord Chamberlain, and with his white staffe, And all the people began for to laugh.
_The Queen's Speech._--
Gallants all of British bloud, Why do ye not saile on th' Ocean flood? I protest ye'are not all worth a Philberd Compared with Sir Humphrey Gilberd.
_The Queen's Reason._
For he walkt forth in a rainy day, To the new-found Land he took his way, With many a gallant fresh and green; He never came home agen.[F. 243] God bless the Queen.
[Footnote 243: Sir _Humphrey Gilbert_ was half-brother to Sir _Walter Raleigh_, and was a famous navigator of Elizabeth's reign. In 1583 he took possession of Newfoundland, but his ship foundered on the voyage home, 9th September 1584.]
[82.] A Justice of the Peace was very angry with a country yeoman, because hee came not to him at his first sending for him; and after he had bountifully bestowed two or three dozen of knaves upon him, hee said to him, Sirrah, I will make you know that the proudest knave that dwels under my command shall come before mee when I send for him. I beseech your worship said the man, to pardon mee, for I was afraid: afraid of what? said the Justice. Of your worship answered the fellow. Of mee? said the Justice, why wast thou afraid of mee? Because your worship lookes so like a Lyon, said the man. A Lyon? quoth the Justice, when didst thou see a Lyon? May it please your worship (the fellow replyde) I saw a Butcher bring one but yesterday to _Colebrooke_ market, with a white face and his foure legs bound.
This fellow was a knave, or foole, or both, Or else his wit was of but slender growth: He gave the white fac'd _Calfe_ the Lyons stile, The Justice was a proper man the while.
[4.] One that was Born in the Parish of S^t Giles Cripplegate said: When I dye, I'll be Buried in Cripple Church Yard, an't please God I live.
[26.] A Notable Fellow, that, as 'tis said would not be drunk above seven days in the week; and when he was drunk was so besotted that he knew not what he did. Once his Prentice was sent by his Wife to fetch him home, and when he found him out, he found him reeling ripe also. And as they came down _Ludgate Hill_, in a Moon-shiny night, saw the reflection of the Bell-Savage sign post upon the ground, and it seems took it for a Block, and went to lift his Leg over it, his Prentice having him by the Arm for his supporter, askt what he meant by that? Why, says he, to go over this Block. He told him 'twas not a Block. What is it then? says he. 'Tis a Sign, says the Boy. What Sign, I prithee? Why Master 'tis a Sign you are drunk.
[17.] One who was deep in debt, and forced to keep within all day for fear of Serjeants and Bailiffs would yet at night adventure abroad in some back Lanes and Alleys. Passing one night through the Butchers Shambles, going in hast, one of the Tenter Hooks catcht hold of his cloak. He thinking it had been a Serjeant which had thus shoulder clapt him, looking back, said, _At whose Suit I pray you?_
[105.] When _Scogin_ should ride home againe, his bootes were nought, and hee could not tell what shift to make. At last he devised what he might doe: whereupon he sent his man for a shoo-maker to bring him a paire of Bootes. The shoo-maker brought the bootes, and when hee had pulled on the right foot boote, and was pulling on the other boot, Scogin said, it was marvellous strait, and that it did pinch his leg: wherefore hee prayed him to carry it home, and set it on the laste an houre or two: for (quoth he) I have a thing to write that will hold mee two houres, and all that time I will sit and write, & keepe this other boote on my leg still untill that be ready. The shoomaker tooke the boot and went home, as Scogin had bidden him. When the shoo maker was gone, hee sent his man for another shoo maker, and caused one to pull off the boot which the first shoo maker had pulled on. When the other shoo maker was come, _Scogin_ caused him to pull on the left boot, and when hee was pulling on the right foot boot, _Scogin_ found fault with it, as he did with the first shoo maker, and sent him away in like sort. When he was gone, hee caused his man to make ready their horses, and hee pulled on the boot againe, which the first shoo maker had left behinde him, and so he rode away with the two bootes of two shoo makers: shortly after, the shoomakers came and enquired for _Scogin_, but hee and his man were gone, almost an houre before.
[82.] Two Playsterers being at worke for mee at my house in Southwarke, did many times patch and dawbe out part of their dayes labour with prating, which I, being digging in my garden did over heare that their chat was of their wives, and how that if I were able (quoth one) my wife should ride in pompe through London, as I saw a Countesse ride yesterday. Why, quoth the other, how did shee ride I pray? Marry, said hee, in state, in her _Horslitter_. O base, quoth the other, _Horslitter_: I protest as poore a man as I am, I would have allowed my wife a three-peny trusse of cleane Straw.
[26.] _Henry Martin_ the great Rumper, for you know all Martins are Birds, and he being so, flew so high before; but after the King's most happy Restauration, was brought so low, as to kneel at the Bar of the Lord's House; though 'tis thought he never came into the Lords House before, unless it were to see a handsome Girl there. But at the Lords Bar he was askt what he could say, that Judgment should not pass upon him? My Lords, says he, I understood that the King's Proclamation extended to favour of life, upon rendring myself, which I then did. And, withal, my Lords, I do let you to know, and I do ingeniously confess it, that I never obey'd any of his Majesty's Proclamations before, but this; and I hope I shall not be hang'd for taking the King's word now.
[94.] One sitting by the Fire to take Tobacco, said the Fire was his friend, and presently spit into it: To which one replied, You do not well to quench your friends love by spitting in his face.
THE JOVIALL CREW.[F. 244]
or
Beggars-Bush.
In which a Mad Maunder doth vapour and swagger With praiseing the Trade of a bonney bold Beggar.
To the tune of, _From hunger and Cold_.
A Beggar, a Beggar, [126.] A Beggar I'le be, There's none leads a Life so jocond as hee; A Beggar I was, And a Beggar I am, A Beggar I'le be, from a Beggar I came: If (as it begins) our Trading do fall, I fear (at the last) we shall be Beggars all. _Our Tradesmen miscarry in all their affayrs And few men grow wealthy, but Courtiers and Players._
A Craver my father, A Maunder my mother, A Filer my sister, a Filcher my brother, A Canter my Unckle, That cared not for Pelfe, A Lifter my aunt, a Beggar myselfe. In white wheaten straw, when their bellies were full, Then I was begot, between Tinker and Trul. _And therefore a Beggar, a Beggar I'le be, For none hath a spirit so jocond as he._
When Boyes do come to us, And that their intent is To follow our Calling, we nere bind them Prentice, Soon as they come too't, We teach them to doo't, And give them a Staff and a Wallet to boot. We teach them their Lingua, to Crave and to Cant, The devil is in them if then they can want. _If any are here that Beggars will bee, We without Indentures will make them free._
We begg for our bread, But sometimes it happens We feast with Pigg, Pullet, Conny and Capons For Churche's affairs We are no Man-slayers We have no religion, yet live by our prayers. But if when we begg, Men will not draw their purses, We charge and give fire, with a volley of curses, _The Devil confound your good Worship we cry, And such a hold brazen fac'd Beggar am I._
_London._ Printed for _W. Thackeray_, _T. Passenger_, and _W. Whitwood_.
[Footnote 244: For tune, see Appendix.]
[82.] A Justice of the Peace committed a fellow to prison, and commanded him away three or foure times, but stil the fellow intreated him. Sirrah, (said the Justice) must I bid you bee gone so many times, and will you not goe? The fellow answered, Sir, if your worship had bidden mee to dinner or supper, I should in my poore manners not to have taken your offer under two or three biddings; therefore I pray you blame me not if I looke for foure biddings to prison.
[26.] King James being in his Progress at Woodstock in Oxfordshire, the King, finding it to rain so one morning that he could not ride a hunting, had got some Nobility and Gentry together, resolving to be merry. And one humour was, that the King having that morning a fine curvetting Horse given him, which kind of Horse he never lik'd in his life, told them that he that could tell the greatest lie should have that Horse. So one told one lie, and another, another: and several had told others, that there was great laughing; and just in the midst of this mirth in comes a Country Fellow, complaining to the King that some of his Servants had wrong'd him: Well, well, says the King, we'll hear you of that anon; come, come hither amongst us, and you must know that he that can tell the greatest lie shall have that horse. Truly Sir, says he, an't please your Grace, I never told a lie in all my life. With that says the King, Give him the Horse, give him the Horse, for I am sure that is the greatest lie that has been told to day.
[94.] A yong lascivious Gallant wanting money, could not with his credit sell anything; yet his father being but lately dead, at length was checkt by some of his friends for his loose and extravagant life, and withal told him he had base and beastly Associates that did draw him to ill houses. He, taking this opportunity, answered, Truly, Friends, your Counsel is very good, I will presently go sell my Coach and Horses.
[17.] One being desired to eat some Oysters, refused, saying they were ungodly meat, unchristianly meat, uncharitable meat, and unprofitable meat. And being demanded his reason why he said it, he answered, They were ungodly meat, because they were eaten without saying of Grace; unchristianly meat because the Creature was eaten alive; uncharitable meat, because they left no offal to the poor, and unprofitable meat, because most commonly there was more spent upon them than the Oysters cost.
[110.] Maister _Hobson_, and another of his neighbours, on a time walking to Southwarke faire, by chance drunke in a house which had the signe of Sa. _Christopher_, of the which signe the good man of the house gave this commendation; Saint _Christopher_ (quoth he) when hee lived upon the earth bore the greatest burden that ever was, which was this, he bore Christ over a river. Nay there was one (quoth maister _Hobson_) that bore a greater burden; Who was that (quoth the in keeper). Mary, quoth Maister _Hobson_, the asse that bore both him and his mother: so was the Inne keeper called asse by Craft. After this, talking merely together, the aforsaid Inne keeper being a little whitled[F. 245] with drinke, & his head so giddy that he fell into the fire, people standing by, ran sodainely and tooke him up; oh let him alone (quoth Maist. _Hobson_) a man may doe what he will in his owne house, and lie where so ever he listeth. The man having little hurt, with this sight grew immediately sober, and, after, foxed Maister _Hobson_ and his neighbour so mightely, that comming over London bridge, being very late, ranne against one of the posts, which Maister _Hobson_ thinking it to bee some man that had justled him, drew out his dodgion[F. 246] dagger, and thrust it up into the very hilt into the hollow post; whereupon verely hee had thought hee had kil'd some man: so, running away, was taken by the watch, and so all the Jest was discovered.
[Footnote 245: Intoxicated.]
[Footnote 246: A dudgeon dagger was one having a _boxwood_ handle.]
[52.] A mad fellow newly married, had onely one young child by his wife, of some quarter old, whom he dearly and tenderly loved, but he was much given to good fellowship, and she altogether addicted to sparing, & good huswifery: still he used to come merry home from the taverne from his boone companions, to her great griefe, she being as sparing of her purse, as prodigall of her tongue, for she was little better than a Scold, would oft upbraid him with his expences of money, and time, and to be so often drunke was prejudiciall both to his estate and bodily health, and that it were far better to spend that at home in his house than in a Taverne; with such Matron like speeches, always concluding her exhortations with a vow that if ever he came home again in the like pickle she would (happen what would come) fling the Child into the Moat (for the house was moted round.) It happned shortly after, that he revelling till late in a cold frosty Winter evening, she having intelligence by her scouts where hee was, made no doubt hee would come home flustred. She commands the Infant to bee convaied to the farther part of the house, and to wrap the Cat in the blankets, put it in the Cradle, and there sit and rocke it. Presently comes her Husband, she fals to her old lesson of quarrelling with him, and hee with her, ill words begot worse, much lewd language past betwixt them. The woman suddenly steps to the Cradle (having spied her advantage;) I have long threatned thee a mischiefe, and that revenge I cannot worke on thee (come doggs, come devills) I will inflict on thy Brat in the Cradle; instantly snatched it up in her armes, and ran with it to the Moat side, and flings it into the middle of the water: the poore man much affrighted, leaves to pursue her, and leaps into the water, up in mud and water to the very chinne, crying, Save, oh save the child. Now waded he in the Moat in a very bitter cold frost, till he brought out the Mantle, and with much paine and danger comes to the shore, and still crying, Alas, my poore childe, opened the Cloathes: At length the frighted Cat cryed Mew, and being at liberty leapt from betwixt his armes, and ranne away. The husband both amazed and vexed, the woman heartily laughed at her revenge, and the poore man was glad to reconcile the difference before she would either give him fire or dry linnen.
[26.] A dear and Loving wife, that always bore a great respect to her Husband, both in Sickness and in Health, and now did make it appear to the very last. For when her dear Husband was, in _Essex_, condemned to die, for a small matter God knows, that is only for stealing four or five Horses, and breaking up as many Houses; so this sweet loving Soul his wife, hearing where he was, came and gave him a visit. Wife, says he, you see what I am come to now, prithee pray for me, and have a care to bring up our Children in the fear of God. Husband, says she, as soon as I heard of it, you see I came to you, and as you know I have always been loving to you, you shall now find it at the last. Pray Husband, tell me, are we to be at the charge of a Rope, or they, for I would have all things ready to do you a kindness; for here I have brought one forty Miles to do you a Courtesie, And so left the Rope with him. Well, wife, says he, I thank you heartily, and pray go home, and look after the Children. No, Husband, says she, I have not come so far, but a Grace a God I'll see you hang'd before I go.
[17.] A Countrey man passing by S^t Pauls Church, at such time as it was turn'd from a House of Prayer, to be a den of Thieves; I mean, an unsanctified Guard of Souldiers: He seeing what manner of Cattle inhabited it, asked a Shopkeeper hard by, If that place were Noah's Ark? Being asked the reason of his demand, Because, said he, I see so many unclean beasts therein.
[105.] When _Scogin_ and his man had ridden ten or twelve miles on their way, hee overtooke a Priest that was riding to London, to pay his first fruits, with whom he kept company untill he came to Stamford, and all that way as they rode, _Scogin_ made the Priest very good cheere, and would let him pay no money, so that _Scogin_ had but two shillings left: and riding betweene Stamford & Huntington, _Scogin_ complayned him to the Parson in this sort: I marvell master Parson (quoth he) how men doe when they want money, to get it? For when I want money, I know not how to get any, except I should steale. No, no, said the Priest, doe you not know that they that serve God well, doe not want, and how that God promiseth, that if you call upon him in your afflictions, that hee will helpe you? You say well, master Parson, said _Scogin_, and rode before; and when hee saw a faire place, hee kneeled downe and lifted up his hands, and prayed to God, till Master Parson and his man did overtake him, but nothing hee could get. When they were come, hee told them he prayed, but could get nothing. But (quoth he) I will try once againe, and then if I can get nothing, both you, Master Parson and my man shall helpe me to pray, for I doe not doubt but God will helpe something, when hee heareth all our prayers. And then _Scogin_ did ride before againe, and when hee saw his place convenient, hee alighted him from his horse and tied him to a tree, and kneeled downe, and prayed as hee had done before, until such time as they came to him. Then, said the Parson, How do you now, Master _Scogin_? By my troth, said he, I can get nothing; wherefore, alight, sirra, quoth he to his man, and tie your horse to yonder tree, and then hee went to the Parson, and took his horse by the bridle, and told him hee must needes helpe him to pray. The Parson for feare durst not say him nay, but alighted, and tooke his capcase[F. 247] from the saddle bow, wherein was fifty pounds. Then _Scogin_ asked his man how much money hee had in his purse? He sayd, twenty pence. By my troth, said _Scogin_, and I have but two shillings, and how much have you Master Parson? said hee. The Parson thought that if he had told him all, hee would surely have borrowed a good part of it, and he said, five pounds. Well, let us pray hartily, said _Scogin_, and then they kneeled downe, and prayed for the space of halfe an houre; and _Scogin_ said, let us see whether God have heard our request, or no. And then, he looked in his own purse, where was but two shillings, and then he looked in his man's purse, where was but twenty pence. Then _Scogin_ came to the Parson, and said, Now Master Parson, let us see what you have, for I doe not doubt but God hath heard our prayers; and tooke the Priests capcase and opened it, wherein was a bag with fifty Pounds in it, which the Parson should have paid for his first fruits. Then _Scogin_ spread his cloake abroad, and poured out the money, and when hee had told it, hee said, By Lady, Master Parson, God hath heard our prayer; and then hee gave him five pounds, and said, Master Parson, here is the five pound that thou had before wee began to pray, and the rest we will have; for I see that you are so well acquainted with God, that with praying halfe an houre, you can get as much more: and this will doe us great pleasure, and it is but a small matter for you to pray halfe an houre. The Parson desired Scogin to let him have the rest of the money, for hee said that hee did ride to London to pay his first fruits. Well, said _Scogin_, then you must pray againe, for wee will have this, and so they rode away, and left the Priest behind them: and the Priest was faine to ride home againe for more money.
[Footnote 247: A small leather travelling case.]
[82.] In Queene _Elizabeths_ dayes there was a fellow that wore a brooch in his hat, like a tooth drawer, with a Rose and Crowne and two letters: this fellow had a warrant from the Lord Chamberlaine at that time to travell with an exceeding brave Ape which hee had; whereby hee gat his living from time to time at markets and fayres: his Ape did alwayes ride upon a mastiffe dog, and a man with a drum to attend him. It happened that these foure travellers came to a towne called _Looe_ in _Cornwall_, where the Inne being taken, the drum went about to signifie to the people that at such an Inne was an Ape of singular vertue and quality, if they pleased to bestow their time and money to see him. Now the townsmen, being honest labouring Fishers, and other painfull functions, had no leasure to waste either time or coyne in _Ape tricks_, so that no audience came to the Inne, to the great griefe of _Jack an Apes_ his Master; who, collecting his wits together, resolved to adventure to put a tricke upon the towne, whatsoever came of it; whereupon hee took pen, inke, and paper and wrote a warrant to the Mayor of the towne as followeth.
_These are to will and require you, and every of you, with your wives and families, that upon the sight hereof you make your personall appearance before the Queenes Ape, for it is an Ape of ranke and quality, who is to be practised throughout her Majesties dominions, that by his long experience amongst her loving subjects, hee may bee the better enabled to doe her Majesty service hereafter; and hereof faile you not, as you will answer the contrary. &c._
This warrant being brought to the Mayor, he sent for a shoomaker at the furthest end of the towne to read it; which when he heard, hee sent for all his brethren, who went with him to the Towne Hall to consult upon this waighty businesse. Where after they had sate a quarter of an houre, no man saying any thing, nor any man knowing what to say; at last a young man that never had borne any office, said, Gentlemen, if I were fit to speake, I thinke (without offence, under correction of the Worshipfull) that I should soone decide this businesse; to whom the Mayor said, I pray good neighbour speake, for though you never did beare any office here, yet you may speake as wisely as some of us. Then sir, said the young man, my opinion is that this Ape carrier is a gybing scoffing knave, and one that doth purpose to make this towne a jesting mocking stocke throughout the whole Kingdome: for was it ever knowne that a fellow should be so impudent audacious, as to send a Warrant without either name or date, to a Mayor of a towne, to the Queenes Lieutenant, and that he with his brethren, their wives and families should be all commanded to come before a _Jack an Apes?_ My counsell is, that you take him and his Ape, with his man, and his dog, and whip the whole messe or murrinal[F. 248] of them out of the towne, which I thinke will be much for your credit if you doe.