Part 7

All you that pass along, [35.] Give ear unto my song, Concerning a youth that was young, young, young; And of a Maiden fair Few with her might compare But alack, and alas, she _was dumb, dumb, dumb_.

She was beautious, fresh and gay Like the pleasant Flowers in _May_, And her cheeks was as round, as a plum, plum, plum; She was neat in every part, And she stole away his heart, But alack, and alas, she _was dumb, dumb, dumb_.

At length this Country Blade, Wedded this prety Maid, And he kindly conducted her home, home, home; Thus in her Beauty bright, Lay all his whole Delight But alack, and alas, she was dumb, dumb, dumb.

Now will I plainly show What work this Maid could do, Which a Pattern may be, For girls young, young, young: O she both day and night In working took delight. But alack, and alas, she _was dumb, dumb, dumb_.

She could brew, and she could bake, She could wash, wring and shake, She could sweep the house with a broom, broom, broom: She could knit and sow and spin, And do any such like thing But alack, and alas, she _was dumb, dumb, dumb_.

But at last this man did go, The Doctor's skill to know, Saying, Sir, can you cure a Woman of the Dumb? O it is the easiest part, That belongs unto my Art, For to cure a Woman _of the Dumb, dumb, dumb_.

To the Doctor he did her bring, And he cut her Chattering-string, And he set her Tongue on the run, run, run: In the morning he did rise, And she fill'd his house with cries, And she rattled in his ears like a drum, drum, drum.

To the Doctor he did go, With his heart well fill'd with woe, Crying, Doctor, I am undone, done, done; Now she's turn'd a scolding Wife And I'm weary of my life, Nor I cannot make her hold her tongue, tongue, tongue.

The Doctor thus did say, When she went from me away, She was perfectly cured of the dumb, dumb, dumb. But it's beyond the Art of Man, Let him do the best he can, For to make a scolding Woman hold her tongue, tongue, tongue.

So as you to me came Return you back again And take you the Oyl of Hazel[F. 63] strong With it anoint her Body round, When she makes the House to sound, So perhaps you may charm her, tongue, tongue, tongue.

[Footnote 62: For tune, see Appendix.]

[Footnote 63: A hazel switch.]

[26.] A Schoolmaster did always dictate to his Scholars. _H non est Litera_, that is H is no letter; and on a time he call'd one of the Scholars to him, and bid him _heat the Cawdle_, and when he askt for it, the Scholar told him, _that he had done with the Cawdle as he bid him_. _What's that?_ says his Master, _Why Sir_, says he, _I did eat it._ _Sirrah_, says he, _I bid you heat it with an H_. _Yes Sir_, says he, _But I did eat it with Bread_.

[32.] What is that that hath his belly full of man's meat and his mouth full of dirt? _Solution._ It is an Oven when it is full of bread, or pies, for that is man's meat, and the Ovens mouth is then closed with dirt.

What's an _Ace_, says one, [12.] Dewce take me, says _John_, The Tray will be up in a trice You cater waule now. And your wit sinks low, Why friends, the jest is concise.

Death and an honest Cobler fell at bate [24.] And finding him worne out, would needs translate; He was a trusty so'le, and time had bin He would, well liquord, go through thick and thin. Death put a trick upon him, and what was't? The Cobler call'd for All, death brought his last; 'Twas not uprightly done to cut his thread, That mended more and more till he was dead; But since hee's gone, tis all that can be said, Honest _Cut-Cobler_ here is underlayed.

In political satire it was not to be expected that so prominent a person as Prince Rupert, the son of James I.'s own sister, could come off scathless; but it is somewhat singular, and it shows the bitterness of the parties, that even his pets, his poodle dog, and his monkey, should provoke the satiric ire of the Roundhead writers. Both are historical, and, thanks to Thomason, whose wonderful collection, known as the "Kings Pamphlets," exists in the British Museum, the materials of their history are easily accessible to the student. The Prince's dog "Boy" was a white poodle, and it is somewhat curious to note that poodles, over 200 years since, were shaved so as to conserve the lionlike mane, although the dandyisms of tufts on the legs and tail seem to have been reserved for a later era.

His master must have had a special and peculiar affection for "Boy," as he, and a tame hare, "which used to follow him about & do his bidding with facility," were his solace when imprisoned at Lintz in 1641. According to a writer,[F. 64] whose "Prince Ruperts diary" everybody would like to see, it was a "beautiful white dogge," was given him by Lord Arundell, and was "of a breede so famous that the Grand Turk gave it in particular injunction to his ambassador to obtaine him a puppie thereof." His nationality is given in a tract [36] as being either of German or Finland breed, and he must soon have become notorious, as Prince Rupert did not come over to England after his release from prison until February 1642; and we find from the accompanying engraving [36] that early the following year he was politically made use of for party purposes.

In this dialogue, which is too lengthy for reproduction here, it will be seen that he was already accredited with supernatural qualities.

"_Tobies Dog._ ... I heare you are Prince _Ruperts_ white Boy.

_P. Rup. dog._ I am none of his White Boy, my name is _Puddle_.

_Tob. dog._ A dirty name indeed, you are not pure enough for my company, besides I hear on both sides of my eares that you are a Laplander, or Fin land Dog, or truly no better than a Witch in the shape of a white Dogge.

* * * * *

_Tob. Dog._ You are of _Brackley_ breed, better to hang than to keep.

_ Pr. Rup. Dog._ No, Sirrah, I am of high Germain breed;

_Tob. Dog._ Thou art a Reprobate, and a lying Curre; you were either whelpt in Lapland, or else in Fin land; where there is none but divells and Sorcerers live."

This supernatural idea seems to have had its rise in Boy's accompanying his master always, even on the battlefield, enjoying a marvellous immunity from harm. There is a very similar engraving to the accompanying, in a chap-book of "The History of the Blind Begger of Bednal Green" [38], where it does duty for "Young Monford Riding to the Wars, where he unhapily lost his Eye sight."[F. 65] And I have no doubt but that in this present work the engraving to "The Poets Dream" is an old woodcut of Prince Rupert and his dog Boy.

[37.]

In another tract of the time [39] are plentiful allusions to his being a witch. "Grumbling Sir, or counterfeit Lapland Lady, I admire thy impudence in calling thyself a Lady: Art thou a Lady and hast so much haire?... Thou wouldst be a rough bed fellow for the Divell himself; if thou art not a Divell thyself, thou hast conditions sutable to thy shape, for thou doest snarle and bite at the Parliament, and hast learnt that quality from other Popish Dogs; good thou canst do none to the Prince, for that is contrary to the nature of a Witch, which in some respects thou unjustly doest assume, but in other conditions most fitly, for a Witch will dine or suppe with a roasted crab squittering in the fire, or with a few boild Onions and a draught of Buttermilke which one of her neighbours gave her for fear more than for love, but thou doest fare most deliciously of the rumps and wings of Capons, and Kidneys, and art indeed better fed than taught. Besides a Witch will lie upon an old straw bed with her house Cat which seems instead of her bed fellow. But the Kings chair of state and all the embroydered velvet stools are thy day couches, where thou lyest and sleepest with thy malignant eyes half open, and canst winke at small and great faults as thou doest for occasion. But then thou art a Witch again in some conditions, for they are overgrown with ugly gray hair which hangs down about their shoulders, and so art thou, _Boy_. Witches are ready to doe mischief, but can do no good, and such are thy malignant qualities, _Boy_; Pardon me, for though our gracious King loves thee, it is not as thou art a Witch but as thou art Prince _Robert's_ dog." And this attack on poor _Boy_ winds up with calling him "a very cowardly malignant cur," though he look like a lion.

Another tract [40] talks of "her cousen Prince _Ruperts_ with her white Tog, which as her Moderns hold is a Prince disguis'd." And Cleveland [41] in his ode "to Prince Rupert" sings to poor _Boy's_ disadvantage, and holds him up as a bugbear.

"They fear the Giblets of his Train, they fear Even his Dog, that four legg-d Cavalier: He that devours the Scraps which _Lunsford_ makes, Whose Picture feeds upon a Child in Stakes. Who name but _Charles_ he comes aloft for him, But holds up his Malignant Leg at _Pym_. 'Gainst whom they've several Articles in Souse; First that he barks against the Sense o' th' House. _Resolv'd Delinquent_, to the Tower straight; Either to th' Lyons, or the Bishops Grate. Next, for his Ceremonious Wag o' th' Tail; But there the Sisterhood will be his Bail, At least the Countess will, _Lust's Amsterdam_, That lets in all Religions of the Game. Thirdly, he smells Intelligence, that's better, And cheaper too, than _Pym_ from his own Letter: Who's doubly pay'd (Fortune or we the blinder?) For making Plots, and then for Fox the Finder. Lastly he is a Devil without doubt; For when he would lie down, he wheels about; Makes Circles and is Couchant in a Ring, And therefore score up one for Conjuring."

In a contemporary tract [36] _Boy_ is accredited with being invulnerable, and he had escaped the chances of war in a remarkable manner. It would be a pity to curtail the extract, as it shows well the political amenities of that age. "The Challenge which Prince _Griffins_ Dogge called _Towzer_ hath sent to Prince _Rupert's_ Dog whose name is _Puddle_, daring him to meet him at the Parish Garden this present Lent to try a combate before the Worship full the Beares, who are appointed to be their Judges in that Case.----Thou worme of Wickednesse, fritter of Folly, spawne of doggednesse, and piece of mungrele stuffe; in regard of thy base grumbling words and bawling against thy betters. Besides that, is honest _Pepper_. Tobies _Dogge_ your match, no he is too milde for thee; thou should have given notice of your Treaty and discourse to me who am thy equall, thou shouldst have found enough of me, for I will have thee know, that I eate as good Rumps and Kidneyes as ever thou, base Cur, dost; when I have you at the place appointed I will so rump you, and so frump you, that I will leave you never a rumpe nor yet a kidney, no, not with a heart as big as a hen or chickins: I doe now with open mouth defie thee and all thy proceedings, and doe challenge thee to meet me at the place before mentioned, there will I fight, tug and teare thee in a single combate, where I mean to rend thee in pieces, and be revenged on thee, base cur. _And[F. 66] although I hear thou art impenitrable and likewise besmeared over with inchaunted oyle, so that no weapon, bullet nor sword can enter thee to make thee bleed_; yet I have teeth which I have newly whetted shall so fasten and teare your German or Finland hide limb meale, and then flea thy skin and hang it on the hedg, and give thy pomperd flesh to those Iudges which we are to fight before, (namely the Worshipfull the Bears), to satisfie their hungry mawes this Lent; let me hear your dogged answer, or else I will proclaim thee Coward in print, and set thy name upon every whipping post &c.... Expect no favour from mee, nor will I from you; I will end the difference. I will have no Outlandish cur domineer in our Land. _So saith your Surley foe_ Towzer, and servant to Prince Griffin."

Long after poor _Boy's_ death he was associated with Prince Rupert, for instance [42]--

"See how the Sectists bustle now, The Independents sturre. London is tam'd say they; as once Prince _Rupert_ with his curre."

_Boy_ at all events proved mortal, for he met with his death, after escaping in many battlefields, at Marston Moor, on 2d July 1644; and great rejoicings were made by the Puritan faction over his death. One of the "King's Pamphlets" is entirely devoted to him [43], and from this the accompanying engraving is taken. Here poor _Boy_, who is environed by a hail of bullets, is represented as being "killed by a Valliant Souldier, who had skill in Necromancy." And to keep up the idea of his supernatural birth a witch is standing by, lamenting. The "Elegie" commences with "P. _Ruperts_ Sorrow."

"Lament poor _Cavaliers_, cry, howl, and yelp. For the great losse of your _Malignant Whelp_. Hee's dead! Hee's dead: No more, alas, can he Protect you _Dammes_, or get Victorie. How sad that _Son_ of _Blood_ did look to hear One tell the death of this shagg'd _Cavalier_, Hee rav'd, he tore his Perriwigg, and swore. Against the Round heads that hee'd ne're fight more."

It goes on with a fabulous supernatural pedigree of _Boy_.

"'Twas like a _Dog_, yet there was none did know Whether it Devill was, or Dog, or no."

And after a long political diatribe it winds up thus--

"To tell you all the pranks this _Dogge_ hath wrought, That lov'd his Master, and him Bullets brought, Would but make laughter, in these times of woe, Or how this Curr came by his fatall blow, Look on the Title Page, and there behold, The Emblem will all this to you unfold.

Morrall.

The _World's_ the _Witch_, the _Dogge_ is the _Devill_, And _men_ th' Actors, that have wrought this evill."

So famous was _Boy_, that the different newspapers gave his death as a special piece of intelligence [44]--"I may not omit to tell you that Prince _Rupert_ lost his Bever, and his horse, and also his Dog was slain, and lay dead neere the Beanfield, where divers affirme the Prince hid himselfe, after a little service, till it was dark, and then he got to _Yorke_." Again [45]--"As for newes from the North, I heare it further confirmed, that the rumour which was here about Towne concerning P^r _Ruperts_ hiding himselfe in a Beane field, and for which act hee is almost quite out of the Malignants bookes, is acknowledged to be most certaine, Nay, and I myselfe have heard it confessed from the mouths of some notorious Malignants: It had beene brave, with a blood hound there to have found him out, the plunderings, cruelties, Massacrings, rapes, and bloodshed, which lie upon his conscience, and which he cannot but beare about continually, must needs have yelded a strong scent to betray him unto revenge. But though his _Necromantick_ Dogge, his _Mephistophiles_, was slaine, yet he seemes he made a shift to get secure into _Yorke_, and there to sweare the Townesmen into an opinion of his Victory." And in another newspaper [48] he is mentioned thus--"Amongst the dead Men and Horses which lay on the ground, wee found Prince _Ruperts_ Dog killed. (This is onely mentioned by the way; because the Prince his Dog, hath been much spoken of, and was more prized by his Master than Creatures of much more worth.)"

A contemporary tract [46] (which is a dry political discussion, and has nothing whatever to do with the title-page) furnishes the accompanying engraving, which is exceedingly graphic. Here we again see poor Boy, exactly as described, lying "dead neere the Beanfield," which is represented with preraphaelite fidelity. It is also hinted at in the engraving which shows him being shot "by a Valliant Soulder, who had skill in Necromancy," but in this one is introduced the head of Prince Rupert, who is supposed to be there hiding.

His baggage fell into the hands of the victorious Parliamentarians, and the satirist cannot help having a fling at the Prince's Romish proclivities, as the contents of his sumpter horses' baggage shows bulls, crucifixes, images, a bell, etc. On this subject there is another satire [47]--"The Catholikes Petition to Prince Rupert," from which the accompanying engraving is taken.

But the Prince had another pet, a she monkey, and the satirist must needs make that inoffensive animal a mark at which to spit his spite, although nothing like the supernatural powers of _Boy_ were attributed to her. There are two portraits extant of her, but I have only reproduced one, the dresses in both cases being precisely similar, and may probably represent her real costume [49]. In this tract she is described as--"I never saw such a strange fashioned creature in my life; for she hath a kind of Round-head as smooth as an apple, and if there be any Round-head this Munkey is one, her brow is low and wrinkled hanging over her little eyes; her nose thats flatt is very short, her cheekes are leane and lanke, and her thin lipps do hardly cover her teeth, the complection of her whole face is swarthy, cover'd with hayre greene as mosse, and lastly she hides her head in a black bagg, moreover she weares a greene or yellow gowne trimmed about with lace, & a girdle about her middle by the which she is fastned to the nave of a wheele, for the Prince is full of feares and Jelousies that if she were loose she would steale away into some wood and live there upon nutts and apples.... Thus P. _Ruperts_ Monkey is a kind of old, little, wrinkled, old faced, petulant, wanton, and malignant gentlewoman ... that sometimes rides upon the beast that is Prince _Rupert's_ dog....

Prince _Rupert's_ Monkey is a toy, That doth exceed his dog called Boy, Which through dogged folly, Both Barkes and Bites, But this delights The Prince when's melancholy.

He puts sweetemeats and sugar plumbs Into his Monkey's toothlesse gums, Which open like an oyster, For he doth esteeme A wench I meane, More than a Nun in a Cloister."

The colour of her dress is also described in a tract, before quoted from [39]--"And Prince _Roberts_ Monkey dare not come thither, lest the Parliaments Bitch should tear her green coat off from her back."

Her food is described in another tract [50]--"She would eat no oatmeal, nor lome of walls to cure her infirmitie, but the longest whitest sugar plums she could put into her mouth, were most delightfull to her taste, and had such a ravenous appetite to fruit that she would swallow all but the stones, and having gotten a delectable bit in her mouth, she would onely suck the juice out of it and then spit out the rest.... Moreover this Monkey was and is by nature a notable plunderer not onely of studdies and closets, into which, if she got, she would teare the books, spill the ink, and eat the sweetmeats."

This is about all I dare reproduce about this pet of Prince Rupert's, the remainder of these tracts being filled with political allusions, which are somewhat hard to be understood now, and of no interest to this book, the remainder being written somewhat more coarsely than usual. But enough has been said about them to show how the satirists of that age seized upon any thing which they could turn to their purpose.

[Footnote 64: Memoirs of Prince Rupert and the Cavaliers, by Eliot Warburton. Lond. 1849.]

[Footnote 65: This is reproduced on p. 360 of "Chap Books of the 18th Century," by John Ashton. Lond. 1882.]

[Footnote 66: These italics are mine.]

A Citizen for Recreations Sake [51.] To see the Countrie would a journie make, Some dozen mile, or little more, Taking his leave of friends two months before; With drinking healths, and shaking by the hand, As he had travail'd to some new-found land. Well, taking horse, with very much a doe, _London_ he leaveth for a day or two: And as he rideth meets upon the way Such (as what haste soever) bid men stay; Sirrah (sayes one) stand, and your purse deliver; I am a taker, you must be a giver. Unto a wood hard by they hale him in, And rifle him unto the very skin. Masters (quoth he) pray heare me ere you goe, For you have robbed more than you doe know: My horse (in troth) I borrowed of my Brother, The Bridle and the Saddle of another: The Jerkin and the Bases[F. 67] be a Taylers, The Scarfe, I doe assure you, is a Saylers: The Falling-band is likewise none of mine, Nor Cuffes, as true as this good light doth shine: The Sattin Doublet and the Velvet Hose, Are our Church-wardens, all the parish knowes. The Bootes are _John_ the Grocers of the Swan, The Spurs were lent me by a Serving-man: One of my Rings, (that with the great red Stone) Insooth I borrowed of my gossip _Joane_. Her husband knowes not of it gentlemen, Thus stands my case, I pray shew favour then. Why (quoth the theeves) thou needst not greatly care, Since in thy losse so many beare a share: The world growes hard, many good fellows lack Look not at this time for a penny back. Goe tell at _London_, thou didst meet with four, That rifling thee hath rob'd at least a score.

[Footnote 67: The exact meaning of these garments seems to be in doubt. They were probably some kind of skirt.]

_The Connicatcher_[F. 68] _and Priest of Paris._

[52.] A lewd knave, a Cheater, espied a wealthy Priest, whose purse was full of money, lately arrived in the City of Paris out of the Countrey to buy necessaries, and with a bold face saluted him, requested his aid in a small matter concerning a man of his own calling. What's that, (quoth the Priest?) It is, Sir, (quoth he) this. The Parson of our Towne hath given mee money to buy a Surplesse, and I, having small knowledge in it, would request your ayde in the Choyce of a good one, making no question of your good skill. With all my heart (quoth the Priest.)

Comming to the shop of sale, the Connicatcher called for some choyce Surplesses, and desired the Priest to choose out one of the best. Which done, intreated him to assay it, whether it were in all points as it ought to be. The Priest was nimble at his game, for it was his dayly exercise, but the Cheater found fault with the making, bearing out such an uncomly bulke at his right side. Oh (quoth the Priest) my girdle and pouch is cause of that, and immediately loosed his girdle and pouch, willing the Connicatcher to hold it till he had better girded up the Surplesse as it ought to be. The Connicatcher having as much as he desired suddenly leapt out of the shop and ranne away as fast as he could with the Priests girdle and pouch full of money. The Priest turning about, and seeing his purse and money flying for religion (_sic_) made all the haste he could in the Surplesse after the Connicatcher, crying and calling Hold the Theefe, Hold the Theefe, The Connicatcher cried out. Hold the Priest, for he is mad, and will kill me: the shopkeeper followed as fast as he could and cried, Stop the Priest, for he hath stolne my Surplesse. The people halfe amazed at this accident, laid hold on the Priest, but before he could declare his misfortune, the Connicatcher was gone far enough, not to be caught again in haste. Which caused much good laughter, and the Priest payed for the Surplesse.

[Footnote 68: A sharper.]

One askt a simpleton, [12.] Pray what Countryman Are you? says he, from the West; By my troth says _Hugh_, I do think so too, All the wise Men come from the East.

_On_ Bond _the Usurer_.

Here lyes a Bond under this tombe, [24.] Seald and deliver'd to, god knows whom.