Part 3

There was an Old woman came out of North Wales, And up to fair London her merrily Sails, It was for her pleasure Cuts-plutter-a-nails _Sing O brave_ Welsh _Woman_, _Jolly brave_ Welsh _Woman_, _Delicate_ Welsh _Woman_. _O._

As soon as hur came into fair _London_ town Hur went to an Alehouse the sign of the Crown, In order to tipple hur streight did sit down. _Sing O brave_ &c.

Hur being a weary and willing to rest, Hur would not be one of the worst of the guest, But call'd for a Pitcher of Ale of the best. _Sing O brave_ &c.

The Tapster then giving the Jugg in her hand, The _Welsh_ woman streight on hur feet she did stand, And drank a good health to hur King of England. _Sing O brave_ &c.

Now while she had gotten the jugg at her snout, And being both lusty, courageous and stout, Hur gave it a tug, till hur swigg'd it half out. _Sing O brave_ &c.

The Tapster he see her to be of that strain, And how she did tipple the Liquor amain, Thought he, I will fill up thy pitcher again. _Sing O brave_ &c.

The jugg hur had plac'd on the Bench by her side, To which the young tapster did cunningly slide, And fill'd it as if it had been a full tide. _Sing O brave_ &c.

Now hur did not know how her pitcher did fill, Therefore hur did say with a merry good will Here's Tipple and drink, and her Pitcher full still. _Sing O brave_ England &c.

The praise of this Nation Cuts-plut her will sing, Hur never had known such a wonderful thing, The juggs in this land has a delicate Spring. _Sing O brave_ England &c.

Once more she saluted the lips of her Mugg, And gave it a hearty and dextrous tugg, The Tapster once more he did fill up her jugg. _Sing O brave_ England &c.

The Liquor up into her Noddle did steel, The Floor with her feet hur hardly could feel, So that hur began for to stagger and reel. _Sing O brave_ England &c.

Hur swore hur would never to _Wales_ any more, For hur has tasted Rich liquor good store, The like in all _Wales_ hur had neer drank before, _Sing O brave_ England &c.

Hereafter hur never will honour the Leek, This was the best Nation as e're hur did seek, Here's liquor of life that will make a Cat speak. _Sing O brave_ England &c.

In praise of this liquor, hur Cap up she flung, For why, it Created an Eloquent Tongue, Besides it will make an Old Woman look young, _Sing O brave Nappy Ale, Delicate Nappy Ale, Dainty fine Nappy Ale._

[1.] In the country dwelt a Gentlewoman who had a French man dwelling with her and he did ever use to go to Church with her, and upon a time he and his Mistresse were going to Church and she bad him pull the doore after him and follow her to the Church, and so he took the doore betweene his armes, and lifted it from the hooks, and followed his Mistresse with it: But when she looked behinde her and saw him bring the doore upon his back, Why, thou foolish knave, qd. she, what wilt thou do with the door? Marry Mistresse, qd. he, you bad me pull the doore after me. Why, qd. she, I did command thee that thou shouldest make fast the doore after thee, and not bring it upon thy back after me. But after this, there was much good sport and laughing at his simplicity and foolishnesse therein.

_On a Watch lost in a Tavern._

A Watch lost in a Tavern? that's a Crime, [14.] You know how men in drinking lose there time: A Watch keeps time, and if time pass away, There is small reason that the Watch should stay. The key hung out, and you forgot to lock it, Time scorns to be kept tame in any pocket. Hereafter if you keep't, thus must you do, Pocket your Watch, and watch your pockets too.

_Of a Precise Taylor._

A Taylor thought a man of upright dealing, [16.] True, but for lying, honest but for stealing, Did fall one day extreamly sicke by chance, And on the sudden was in wondrous trance. The Fiends of hell mustring in fearfull manner, Of Sundry Coloured silkes displayed a Banner, Which he had stolne, and wish't as they did tell That one day he might finde it all in hell. The man affrighted at this apparition Upon recovery grew a great Precisian. He bought a Bible of the new Translation, And in his life he shew'd great reformation; He walked mannerly, and talked meekely, He heard three Lectures, and two Sermons weekely: He vowed to shunne all companies unruly, And in his speech he used none oath, but truly. And zealously to keepe the Sabboths rest, His meat for that day, on the e've was drest, And least the custome that he had to steale, Might cause him sometime to forget his zeale, He gives his journeyman a speciall charge, That if the stuffe allow'd fell out too large, And that to filch his fingers were inclin'd, He then should put the Banner in his minde. This done, I scant can tell the rest for laughter, A Captaine of a ship came three daies after, And brought three yards of Velvet, and three Quarters To make Venetians[F. 24] down below the garters. He that precisely knew what was enuffe, Soone slipt away three quarters of the stuffe. His man espying it, said in derision, Remember, Master, how you saw the vision. Peace (knave) quoth he, I did not see one ragge Of such a coloured silke in all the flagge.

[Footnote 24: Trunk hose.]

[8.] A Notorious Rogue being brought to the Bar, and knowing his case to be desperate, instead of pleading, he took to himself the liberty of jesting, and thus said, _I charge you in the Kings name to seise and take away that man_ (meaning the Judge) _in the red Gown, for I go in danger of my life because of him_.

_On a gentleman that married an heire privately at the Tower._

The angry Father hearing that his childe [5.] Was stoln, married, and his hopes beguild; ('Cause his usurious nature had a thought She might have bin to greater fortunes brought:) With rigid looks, bent brows, and words austere, Ask'd his forc'd son in law how he did dare Thus beare his onely daughter to be married; And by what Cannons he assumed such power? He sayd, the best in England, sir, the Tower.

_Of_ Galla's _goodly Periwigge_.

You see the goodly hayre that _Galla_ weares, [16.] 'Tis certain her own hayr, who would have thought it? She sweares it is her owne; and true she sweares, For hard by Temple-barre last day she bought it. So faire a haire, upon so foule a forehead, Augments disgrace, and showes the grace is borrow'd.

[17.] Several Gentlemen were at dinner together, and one of them was a Parson; among the Dishes one was a Pig, but 'twas very lean; Then they concluded that it was only fit for the Parson, being a spiritual Pig, for it had no flesh upon it.

_An Invitation to Lubberland._

with

An Account of the great Plenty of that Fruitful Country.

There's all sorts of Fowl and Fish, with Wine and store of Brandy, Ye have there what your Hearts can wish, the Hills are Sugar Candy.

The Tune of _Billy and Molly_ Or, The Journey-man Shoe maker

This may be printed R. P.[F. 25]

There is a ship we understand [19.] now riding in the river, Tis newly come from _Lubberland_ the like I think was never; You that a lazy life do love, I'd have you now go over, They say land is not above two thousand leagues from Dover.

The Captain and the Master too, do's give us this relation, And so do's all the whole ships crew, concerning this strange nation. The streets are pav'd with pudding-pies nay powder'd[F. 26] beef and bacon, They say they scorn to tell you lies, who thinks it is mistaken.

The king of knaves and queen of sluts reign there in peace and quiet; You need not fear to starve your guts, there is such store of diet: There may you live free from all care, like hogs set up a fatning, The garments which the people wear is silver, silk and sattin.

The lofty buildings of this place for many years have lasted, With nutmegs, pepper, cloves and mace, the walls are roughly casted, In curious hasty-pudding boil'd, and most ingenious Carving. Likewise they are with pancakes ty'd, sure, here's no fear of starving.

The Captain says, in every Town hot roasted pigs will meet ye, They in the streets run up and down, still crying out, _come eat me_: Likewise he says, at every feast the very fowls and fishes, Nay, from the biggest to the least, comes tumbling to the dishes.

The rivers run with claret fine, the brooks with rich Canary, The ponds with other sorts of wine, to make your hearts full merry: Nay, more than this, you may behold the fountains flow with Brandy, The rocks are like refined gold, the hills are sugar candy.

Rosewater is the rain they have, which comes in pleasant showers, All places are adorned brave with sweet and fragrant flowers: Hot Custards grows on e'ery tree each ditch affords rich jellies Now, if you will be rul'd by me, go there, and fill your bellies.

There's nothing there but holy-days, with musick out of measure; Who can forbear to speak the praise of such a land of pleasure? There you may lead a lazy life, free from all kinds of labour, And he that is without a wife, may borrow of his neighbour.

There is no law, nor lawyers fees, all men are free from fury, For e'ery one do's what he please, without a judge or jury: The summer-time is warm they say, the winter's ne'er the Colder, They have no landlords rent to pay, each man is a free-holder.

You that are free to cross the seas, make no more disputation, At _Lubberland_, you'll live at ease, with pleasant recreation: The captain waits but for a gale, of prosperous wind and weather, And that they soon will hoist up sail, make hast away together.

Printed for _J. Deacon_,[F. 27] at the Angel in _Gilt Spur Street_.

[Footnote 25: Richard Pocock, who licensed from 1685 to 1688.]

[Footnote 26: Salt beef.]

[Footnote 27: Jonah Deacon published from 1684 to 1695.]

[4.] An ignorant Country Fellow coming along _Paternoster Row_, had occasion to change a Half-Crown into small money, and looking over a Grate which stood on the Stall, there sate a large Monkey, whom he prayed to change his Money; the Monkey took it and put it into the Till of the Compter, where he had observed to be put, and then came and Grinn'd at the Man, who, being in a passion, made a noise at the Door, whereat the man of the Shop, coming into the Shop, asked him what was the matter? _Sir_, said he, _I gave your Son half a Crown to change, and he will not give it me again, but laughs at me, and will not give me one word of answer, tho I have asked him for it many a time._

The old name of Robbing, [13.] Is now call'd Padding, For when the Padders have done, Their Lodgings are ta'ne At the Rope in Tyburn Lane In the Parish of _Paddington_.

Epitaph

_On an usurer._

Here lies at least ten in the hundred, [14.] Shackled up both hands and feet, That at such as lent mony _gratis_ wondred, The gain of usury was so sweet; But thus being now of life bereav'n 'Tis a hundred to one he's scarce gone to heav'n.

[8.] In Chancery, one time, when the Councel of the parties set forth the boundary of the Land in question, by the plot, and the Councel of one part said, we lie on this side my Lord, and the Councel of the other part said, we lie on this side. The Lord Chancellor _Hatton_ stood up and said, _If you lie on both sides, whom will you have me to believe?_

_In praise of the Black Jack[F. 28]_

Be your liquor small, or as thick as mudd. [13.] The Cheating bottle cryes, good, good, good, Whereat the master begins to storme, 'Cause he said more than he could performe. _And I wish that his heires may never want Sack, That first devis'd the bonny black Jack._

No Tankerd, Flaggon, Bottle nor Jugg Are half so good, or so well can hold Tugg, For when they are broke or full of cracks, Then they must fly to the brave black Jacks, _And I wish &c._

When the Bottle and Jack stands together, O fie on't, The Bottle looks just like a dwarfe to a Gyant; Then had we not reason Jacks to chuse For this'l make Boots, when the Bottle mends shoes. _And I wish &c._

And as for the bottle you never can fill it Without a Tunnell, but you must spill it, 'Tis as hard to get in, as it is to get out, 'Tis not so with a Jack, for it runs like a spout. _And I wish &c._

And when we have drank out all our store, The Jack goes for Barme to brew us some more; And when our Stomacks with hunger have bled, Then it marches for more to make us some bread. _And I wish &c._

I now will cease to speak of the Jack, But hope his assistance I never shall lack, And I hope that now every honest man, Instead of Jack will y'clip him John. And I wish &c.

[Footnote 28: A bottle made of leather. Sometimes they were ornamented with silver rims, and a silver plate with the owner's coat of arms thereon; but generally they were very rough.]

[18.] A melting Sermon being preached in a Country Church, all fell a weeping, except a Country man, who being ask'd why he did not weep with the rest? _Because_ (says he) _I am not of this Parish_.

[18.] A Country-man admiring the stately Fabrick of S. _Pauls_ Cathedral, asked _Whether it was made in_ England, _or brought from beyond Sea_.

The invincible

PRIDE of WOMEN

or

The _London_ Tradesman's Lamentation

For the Prodigality of his Wife, which doth daily pillage his Purse.

To the Tune of the _Spinning Wheel_.

Licensed according to orders.

I have a Wife, the mores my Care, [20.] who like a gaudy Peacock goes, In Top Knots, Patches, Powder'd Hair, besides she is the worst of shrows; This fills my Heart with grief and care To think I must this burthen bear.

It is her forecast to Contrive to rise about the hour of Noon, And, if she's Trimm'd and Rigg'd by Five why this I count is very soon: Then goes she to a Ball or Play To pass the pleasant night away.

And when she home returns again conducted by a Bully Spark, If that I in the least complain, she does my words and actions mark: And does likewise my Gullet tear, Then roars like Thunder in the Air.

I never had a Groat with her most solemnly I here declare, Yet she's as proud as_ Lucifer_, and cannot study what to wear: In sumptuous Robes she still appears While I am forc'd to hide my Ears.

The lofty Top Knots on her Crown, with which she sails abroad withal, Makes me with Care alas! look down, as having now no hope at all: That ever I shall happy be In such a flaunting Wife as she.

In debt with ev'ry Shop she runs for to appear in gaudy Pride, And when the Millener she duns, I then am forc'd my Head to hide: Dear Friends, this proud imperious Wife She makes me weary of my Life.

Sometimes with words both kind and mild I let her know my wretched state, For which I streightways am Revil'd: says she, I will appear more Great Than any Merchants _London_ Dame, Tho' thou art ruin'd for the same.

'Tis true she is both fair and young, and speaks _Italian_, _Greek_, _and Dutch_, Besides she hath the scolding Tongue, which is, in faith, a Tongue too much: I dare not speak nor look awry, For fear of her severity.

My worldly glory, joy and bliss is turn'd to sorrow, grief and care, He that has such a Wife as this, needs no more torment I declare: To buy those Trinkets which they lack, Both Stock and Credit goes to Rack.

There's many more, as well as I, in famous _London_ City fair, Whose Wives with prodigality doth fill their Husbands hearts with care; I pity those with all my Heart, Since I with them do bear a Part.

[4.] Two Persons who had been formerly acquainted, but had not seen each other a great while, meeting on the Road, one ask'd the other how he did; he told him He was very well, and was Married since he saw him: the other reply'd, That was well indeed: not so well neither, said he, for I have Married a Shrew. That's ill, said the other. Not so ill neither, said he, for I had 2000 Pounds with her. That's well again, said his Friend. Not so well neither, for I laid it out in Sheep, and they died of the Rot. That was ill indeed, said the other. Not so ill neither, said he, for I sold the Skins for more money than the Sheep cost. That was well, indeed, quoth his friend. Not so well neither, said he, for I laid out my money in a House and it was burned. That's very ill, said the other. Not so ill neither, said he, _for my Wife was burned in it_.

_On a little Gentleman and one Mr Story._

The little man, by t'other man's vain glory, [5.] It seems was roughly us'd (so says the story) But being a little heated and high blown, In anger flyes at _Story_, puls him down; And when they rise (I know not how it fated) One got the worst, the _Story_ was translated From white to red, but ere the fight was ended It seems a Gentleman, that one befriended, Came in and parted them; the little blade, There's none that could intreat, or yet perswade, But he would fight still, till another came, And with sound reasons councel'd gainst the same. 'Twas in this manner; friend, ye shall not fight With one that's so unequall to your height, _Story_ is higher; t'other made reply, I'd pluck him down were he three _Stories_ high.

[18.] A Tradesman that would never work by Candle light, was asked the reason why? _To save Candles_, says he; _a Peny saved is a Peny got_.

_Epitaph on a Scrivener._

Here to a period is a Scriv'ner come; [13.] This is his last sheet, full point and total sum. Of all aspersions, I excuse him not, 'Tis plain, he liv'd not without many a blot; Yet he no ill example shew'd to any, But rather gave good coppies unto many, He in good Letters alwayes had been bred, And hath writ more, than many men have read.

He Rulers had at his command by law, Although he could not hang, yet he could draw. He did more Bond men make than any, A dash of's pen alone did ruine many. That not without all reason we may call His letters, great or little, Capitall; Yet 'tis the Scrivner's fate as sure as Just, When he hath all done, then he falls to dust.

[8.] One was saying that his great Grandfather, and Grandfather, and Father died at Sea. Said another that heard him, and I were you, I would never come at Sea. Why, saith he, where did your great Grandfather, Grandfather and Father die? He answered, where, but in their beds? saith the other, _And I were as you, I would never come to bed_.

_These following are to be understood two ways._

I saw a Peacock, with a fiery tail. [13.] I saw a blazing Comet, drop down hail. I saw a Cloud, with ivy Circled round. I saw a sturdy Oak, creep on the ground. I saw a Pismire,[F. 29] swallow up a Whale. I saw a raging Sea, brim full of Ale. I saw a Venice Glass, sixteen foot deep. I saw a Well, full of mens tears that weep. I saw their Eyes, all in a flame of fire. I saw a House, as big as the Moon and higher. I saw the Sun, even in the midst of night I saw the Man that saw this wondrous sight.

[Footnote 29: An ant.]

One writ _Olivarius_ [12.] Instead of Oliverus In _Oliver's_ time; 'twas his will, And his reason was good, If well understood, 'Cause he varies from _verus_ still.

A man he did say [12.] To his friend t'other day, That his sow had lost her life; Sayes one Mr _Howes_, Now you talk of Sowes, Pray, Neighbour, how does your wife?

[18.] _John Scot_ so famous for his Learning, sitting at Table with a young Gallant, was by way of Jest, asked by him what Difference there was between _Scot_ and _Sot_. To which he presently reply'd _Mensa tantum_, that is the Tables breadth; for the other sat just over against him.

=The Devil's Oak:=

or, his

Ramble in a Tempestuous Night, where he hapn'd to Discourse with Men of several Callings, of his own Colour and Complexion.

_To a very pleasant new Tune._

And the Devil he was weather-beat, [21.] and forc'd to take a tree, Because the tempest was so great, his way he could not see: But under an Oak, instead of a Cloak, he stood to keep himself dry, And as he stood, a Fryer in his hood, by chance came passing by.

And the Devil he made the Fryer afraid, with that he crost his breast; Then up the Devil started, the Fryer was faint-hearted, you may wink and choose the best: For I am the Fryer, and thou art the Lyar, therefore thou art my father; I am a Doctor of Evil, and thou art the Devil, the worser I hold thee rather.

A Collier and his Cart came by, which coals he did use to carry. And as soon as the Devil he did him espy, he caused him awhile to tarry: For why, I do think that with thee I must drink, and he called for a glass of claret; Now I find by thy smell, that thou camest from hell, and I fear thou hast stole my chariot.

The next that came by was a Chimney Sweeper, with poles, his brooms, and shackles, What meanest thou, Man, the Devil he said, that thou usest all those tackles? I pry thee gentle Blade, tell me thy trade, thy face it is so besmeared, Hadst thou been so black, and no tools at thy back, thou'dst have made me sore afraid.

Sir, a Chimney Sweeper I do profess, although my trade's but mean, It is for to sweep all dirty holes, and to keep foul chimneys clean: Then go to Hell, where the Devil doth dwell, and he will give thee a piece, God a mercy, old Dog, when I sheer my hog then thou shalt have the fleece.

The next that came by was a tawny Moor, and the Devil bid him see, And he fleered on his tawny skin, crying, Friend, art thou any kin to me? For sure your skin doth resemble our kin, therefore let us walk together, And tell me how you do allow, of this tempestuous weather.

Then the next that came by was a Gun-powder man, which coales and brimstone sifted, That in three quarters of a year, himself had hardly shifted: Then up the Devil rose, and snuffed his nose, he could indure it no longer, Cry'd, Away with this fume, 'tis not fit for the room it will neither quench thirst, no, nor hunger.

I pre thee, gentle Blade, tell me thy trade, as thou hast so strong a smell, It is for to make gunpowder, he said, for to blow the Devil out of Hell: And if I had him here, his joynts would I tear, he should neither scratch, no, nor bite, I would plague the Devil, for all his evil, and make him leave walking by night.

Then a Tinker worse than all the rest, although he was not so black, By chance as he came passing by, with his budget on his back: He cry'd, Yonder is the Devil's tree let us see who dar'st go thither, For it will sustain, from the wind and the rain, or any tempestuous weather.

That shall be try'd, the Devil then he cry'd, then up the Devil he did start, Then the Tinker threw his staff about, and he made the Devil to smart: There against a gate, he did break his pate, and both his horns he broke: And ever since that time, I will make up my rhime, it was called _The Devil's Oak_.

Printed for C. Bates,[F. 30] at the Sun and Bible, in Pye Corner.

[Footnote 30: Charles Bates, at this address (there were three contemporary C. Bates), published in 1685.]