Part 8

[17.] One that had sore eyes, was jeer'd by another that was clear ey'd; who told him they were not so sore, but that he could see a knave: It may be so, says he, _but you must look in a Glass then_.

[18.] A Citizen telling a Courtier that he had just then eased himself of a great Burden by paying a Debt he owed, and that he could not apprehend how any Man could sleep that was in Debt; _For my part_, answered the Courtier, _I should rather wonder how my Creditors can sleep, well knowing that I shall never pay them_.

[4.] A certain Knave asking a virtuous Gentlewoman, jearingly, _What was honesty?_ she answered, _What's that to you? Meddle with those things that concern you._

THE POETS DREAM[F. 69]

OR,

_The Great Out-cry and Lamentable Complaint of the_ LAND _against_ BAYLIFFS and their DOGS.

_Wherein is Expressed their_ Villanous Out-rages _to poor Men; With a true Description of their Knavery and their Debauch'd Actions; Prescribed and Presented to the view of all People._

To the Tune of _Sawny_ &c.

As I lay Slumbring in a Dream, [53.] methought the world most strangely went; The Bayliffs on High Seats was seen, which caus'd the Poor's great discontent. They pluckt true Justice from the Throne, erecting Laws made of their own, And burthen'd the Poor till they made them groan, _And that's the cause that the Land Complains_.

Their Meeting house was an Ale-wives Bench, fix'd in a Street that is termed Old; Their Speaker was a Play-house-Wench both ---- and Thief, and a Devilish Scold. Shee'd guzzel Brandy, Wine or Ale, and then she'd at her Neighbours Rail, And send for the Bayliffs to have them to Jayl, _And that's the cause &c._

Methoughts a mighty hunting-match, was made by Bayliffs and their Currs: Poor men was the Deer they strove to catch, the Houses plac'd in the Room of Furrs:[F. 70] The Suburbs-Round, it was their Park, the Bayliffs yell, the Dogs did Bark, The Poor kept as close as Noah in the Ark, _And that's the Cause &c._

Then _Shephard_ and his Dog wheel'd up to th' right, and thunder'd by a Cursed Lane, And there the Villains wrought their Spight, for by them, once, was a poor Man slain. They Swear, before they'l ever lack, they'l go to Hell, a Pick-a Pack, And thus poor Debters they go to rack, _And that's the Cause &c._

There's Cursing _Will_ and Damme _Jack_, and Robbin _Tanner's_ alive agen, And Paunchgut _Tom_, (a Hellish Pack), with perjur'd _Dick_, and bawdy Ben: Which formerly on Earth did Dwell, and now they are return'd from Hell, And doth against our Laws Rebell. _And that's the Cause &c._

When I awaked from my Dream, methoughts the world turn'd upside down, And in great haste, I Writ this Theam, for the Bayliffs Doggs of our Town; Who for their Pray each hour doe wait, like Death at every poor Man's Gate, And brings the Realm to a Dismal fate. _And that's the Cause &c._

When Poor men are out of Employ and have not a Farthing in the World, The while there Wives and Children cry, there's many are in a Prison hurl'd: Men are enticed by the Bumms, who swear they ne'r will pay their Summs, Thus Poor in Flocks to the Jaylor comes, _And that's the Cause &c._

The Tallyman, Curmudgeon, keeps a Baylif and his Dog to Bite, If in their Books, men ever Creeps, they quickly swear they'l have their Right: So soon as e're they do Back-slide, the Torturing Jale they must abide Then _Toby_ and Dog's employ'd; _And that's the Cause &c._

When Rogues are at the _Old Bayly_ Burn'd, and that their Pilfering Trades do fail; From Thieves to Bayliff's Dogs have turn'd, to plague and hurry the Poor to Jayl: How like Kid-nappers all the Day, in every Corner they Survey, And quaff whole Bowls when they get their way. _And that's the Cause &c._

Ten Groat's the Fees, and a Crown the arrest and three Round OOO's for a Writ beside, Thus Laws are broken, and poor men opprest, such Racking torments they must abide. And while the Prisoner sends for Bail, they Tope the Brandy, Beer and Ale, And makes him pay, or they have him to Jail. _And that's the Cause &c._

For Twenty Shillings, Ten or Five, they'l put a man to a Cursed Charge; Or run him to Jayl they'l soon contrive, where other Bills are exprest at Large: The Jayl Fees many are bound to Rue, the Garnish, Bed and Turnkey too, Expects an unexpected Due, _And that's the Cause &c._

Tis seldom a Bayliff or his Dog is ever known for to go to Church; As soon as they here the Word of God they leave the Parson in the lurch: They swear they'l come to Church no more, they lay their sins to _Adam's_ Score, And jaunt to _Moorfields_ to a ----, _And that's the Cause &c._

Thus I conclude and end my Song, desiring that you wou'd be content; There's Christian Peers that may right our wrong. when Heaven yields up a Parliament: I hope true Reason will plead our Cause, while they'r erecting wholesome Laws They'l keep us from the _Crocodils_ paws, _and cease the Poor of the Land's Complaints_.[F. 71]

Printed for _P. Brooksby_ at the _Golden Ball_ near the _Bear_ Tavern in _Pye Corner_.

[Footnote 69: For tune, see Appendix.]

[Footnote 70: Fir-trees.]

[Footnote 71: 16th Dec. 1671. See the Kings Bench Prisoners Thanks to his Majesty for their late Deliverance By his Majesties Most Gracious Act. (82. l.8)/53 s. sh. fol.]

_The dumbe wife recovered her speech._

[52.] A certaine Farmer had taken to wife a dumb woman, and hearing of a great Magician lately come into England, he tooke horse and rode to him, and demanded if there were no help for a woman that had lost her speech. The Magician answered, Yes, it is an easie matter, and told him hee must take an Aspen leafe, and lay it under her tongue, and it would instantly help her. The Farmer was joy'd with this tidings, and returned in haste homewards, suspecting in himselfe the vertue of his new receit, and therefore to make the matter more sure, he tooke three Aspen leaves, and laid them all three under his wifes tongue, who immediately began to talk and prate very nimbly, and in the end, upon a very small occasion to curse and raile downeright upon her husband, as if shee had beene mad. The Farmer was now in a peck of troubles, and posted in all hast to the Magician, certifying him of this unhappy accident. The Magician demanded if hee absolutely followed his counsell. The Farmer answered No, for (quoth he) instead of one leaf I have used three, hoping to make the matter surer. Marry then, God help thee, (quoth the Magician) for it is an easie matter to make a woman speak, but to make her hold her tongue is past my cunning. Nay, all the devills in Hell could never worke such a wonder. Whereat the Farmer much grieved, departed.

[32.] What is that the more ye lay on, the faster it wasteth?

_Solution._ That is a Whetstone, for the more ye whet the less is the Whetstone.

A Money Monger choyce of Sureties had; [51.] A Countrey fellow plaine in Russet clad; His doublet Mutton-taffety Sheep-skins, His sleeves at hand button'd with two good pins; Upon his head a filthy greasie Hat, That had a hole eate thorou it by a Rat, A Leather Pouch that with a Snap-hance shut, One hundred Hobnailes in his Shooes were put: The stockings that his Clownish legs did fit, Were Kersie to the calfe, and t'other knit; And at a word, th' apparell that he wore Was not worth twelve pence, at _Who gives more?_ The other surety of another stuffe, His neck inviron'd with a double Ruffe, Made Lawne and Cambrick both such common ware, His Doublet set had falling Band to spare; His fashion new, with last Edition stood, His Rapier Hilts imbru'd in golden blood: And these same trappings made him seeme one sound, To passe his credit for an hundred pound, So was accepted; Russet coat deny'd, But when time came the money should be pay'd, And Monsieur Usurer did hunt him out, Strange alteration struck his heart in doubt; For in the Counter[F. 72] he was gone to dwell, And Brokers had his painted cloaths to sell; The Usurer then further understands, The Clowne (refus'd) was rich and had good lands; Ready (through rage) to hang himselfe, he swore That Silken Knaves should cozen him no more.

[Footnote 72: See footnote, _ante_ (F. 52).]

[8.] A seaman coming before the Judges of the Admiralty for admittance into office in a ship bound for the _Indies_, was by one of the Judges much sleighted, as an insufficient person for that office which he sought for to acquire; till the Judge telling him that he believed that he could not say the points of his Compass; the Seaman answered, better than he could say his _Pater Noster_: The Judge replyed, that he would wager twenty shillings with him of that; so the Seaman taking him up, it came to trial, and the Seaman began and said all the points of his Compass very exactly; the Judge likewise said his _Pater Noster_, and when he had finished it, he required the wager according to the agreement, because the Seaman was to say his Compass better than he his _Pater Noster_, which he had not performed: nay hold, quoth the Sea man, the wager is not finished, for I have but half done; and so he immediately said his Compass backward very exactly, which the Judge failing of in his _Pater Noster_, the Seaman carried away the prize.

A Grave there was made [12.] For one _Aylet_, he said The Bell for him then did toul; But you lye like a Knave, It is not a Grave, But only an Aylet hole.

[17.] One having a very great Nose, and thin beard, was told the shadow of his Nose did hinder his Beard's growth.

[26.] An Apothecary in _Oxford_ spoke to a Country man by way of Jeer to bring him some live Rats, and he would give him eighteen pence a piece for them; and a fortnight after he brought them; and then the Apothecary told him, _That he was provided the day before_. The Country Fellow seeing he was abused, was resolved to be quit with him, saying, _I am unwilling (seeing I have brought them) to carry them back again_; and told him he would take three pence out in Physick at some time or other; and so opened his Bag, and let them about the Shop, which did so whisk up and down the Shelves, that in a little space they broke him about forty Pots and Glasses, and could never get rid of them since. _Probatum est._

_A Courtier and a Scholler meeting._

A Courtier proud walking along the Street, [5.] Hap'ned by chance a Scholler for to meet, The Courtier said, (minding nought more than place) Unto the Scholler, meeting face to face, To take the wall, base men Ile not permit, The Scholler said, I will, and gave him it.

[4.] A Lady going to Mass to present her Tapers, fixed one to _St. Michael_, and another to the _Devil_ that was at his Feet. The Clerk seeing her, told her she did not well to offer a Candle to the Devil. _No matter_, says the Lady, _'tis good to have Friends every where; for we know not where we shall go._

[8.] There was a gentleman fell very sick, and a friend of his said to him, Surely you are in danger, I pray you send for a Physician; but the sick man answered, _It is no matter, for if I die I will die at leisure_.

A wealthy Misers sonne, upon a day, [51.] Met a poore Youth, that did intreat and pray Something of Charitie in his distresse; Helpe Sir (quoth hee) one that is Fatherlesse, Sirrah (sayd hee) away, begone with speed, Ile helpe none such; thou art a Knave indeed: Dost thou complaine because thou wants a Father? Were it in my case I would rejoyce the rather; For if thy Father's death, cause thee repine, I would my Father had excused thine.

The little Barly-Corne.[F. 73]

Whose Properties and Vertues here, Shall plainly to the world appeare, And make you merry all the yeere.

To the tune of _Stingo_

Come, and doe not musing stand, [55.] if thou the truth discerne, But take a full cup in thy hand, and thus begin to learne, Not of the earth, nor of the ayre, at evening or at morne, But, joviale boyes, your Christmas keep _with the little Barly-Corne_.

It is the cunningst Alchymist, that ere was in the Land, Twill change your Mettle when it list in turning of a hand, Your blushing Gold to Silver wan, your Silver into Brasse, Twill turn a Taylor to a man _and a man into an ass_--

Twill make a poore man rich to hang a signe before his doore, And those that doe the Pitcher hang, tho rich, twill make them poore; Twill make the silliest poorest Snake[F. 74] the King's great Porter[F. 75] scorne; Twill make the stoutest Lubber weak, _this little Barley Corne_.

It hath more shifts than _Lambe_[F. 76] ere had, or _Hocus Pocus_ too, It will good fellowes shew more sport than _Bankes_[F. 77] his horse could doe: Twill play you faire above the boord, unless you take good heed, And fell you though you were a Lord, _and iustifie the deed_.

It lends more yeeres unto old Age, than ere was lent by Nature, It makes the Poet's fancy rage, more than Castalian water; Twill make a Huntsman chase a Fox, and never winde his Horn, Twill cheere a Tinker in the stockes, _this little Barly-Corne_.

It is the only Will o' th' wispe which leades men from the way, Twill make the tongue ti'd Lawyer lisp and naught but (hic-up) say. Twill make the Steward droope and stoop his Bils he then will scorne, And at each post cast his reckning up, _this little Barly-Corne_.

Twill make a man grow jealous soone, whose pretty Wife goes trim, And raile at the deceiving Moone for making hornes at him: Twill make the Maidens trimly dance, and take it in no scorne, And helpe them to a friend by chance; _this little Barly-Corne_.

It is the neatest Serving man to entertaine a friend, It will doe more than money can, all iarring suits to end: There's life in it, and it is here, 'tis here within this Cup, Then take your liquor; doe not spare, _but cleare carouse it up_.

If sicknesse Come, this Physick take it from your heart will set it, If feare incroach, take more of it, your heart will soon forget it: _Apollo_ and the Muses nine, doe take it in no scorne, There's no such stuffe to passe the time, _as the little Barly-Corne_.

Twill make a weeping Widdow laugh, and some incline to pleasure; Twill make an old man leave his staffe and dance a youthfull measure: And though your clothes be nere so bad, all ragged, rent, and torne, Against the Cold you may be clad _with the little Barly Corne_.

Twill make a Coward not to shrinke, but be as stout as may be, Twill make a man that he shall thinke. that _Jone's_ as good as my Lady: It will inrich the palest face, and with Rubies it adorne, Yet you shall thinke it no disgrace, _this little Barly Corne_.

Twill make your Gossips merry, when they their liquor see, Hey, we shall nere be weary, sweet Gossip, here's to thee: Twill make the Country Yeoman the Courtier for to scorne, And talk of Law suits ore a Can, _with this little Barly Corne_.

It makes a man that write cannot to make you large Indentures, When as he reeleth home at night, upon the watch he ventures: He cares not for the Candle light that shineth in the horne, Yet he will stumble the way aright, _this little Barly-Corne_.

Twill make a Miser prodigall, and shew himselfe kind hearted Twill make him never grieve at all, that from his Coyne hath parted: Twill make a Shepheard to mistake his Sheepe before a storme: Twill make the Poet to excell, _this little Barly-Corne_.

It will make young Lads to call most freely for their Liquor, Twill make a young Lass take a fall, and rise againe the quicker: Twill make a man that he shall sleepe all night profoundly, And make a man what ere he be _goe about his businesse roundly_.

Thus the Barly-Corne hath power even for to change our nature, And make a Shrew within an houre, prove a kind-hearted creature: And therefore here I say againe let no man tak't in scorne, That I the vertues doe proclaim _of the little Barly-Corne_.

Printed in London for E. B.

[Footnote 73: For tune, see Appendix.]

[Footnote 74: ? Sneak.]

[Footnote 75: William Evans, a Welshman in the service of Charles I. He was 7 ft. 6 in. high and at a masque at Whitehall drew Sir Jeffrey Hudson out of his pocket. There used to be a bas-relief over Bull's Head Court in Newgate Street, of "The King's Porter and Dwarf."]

[Footnote 76: Dr. John Lambe was an impostor who early in the 17th century practised fortune-telling, juggling, showing a magic crystal, and recovering stolen goods. He was indicted at Worcester for witchcraft, after which he removed to London, where he got into trouble, and he was finally pelted to death by an infuriated mob on 13th June 1628. There is a very rare pamphlet on this subject--"A brief description of the notorious life of John Lambe, otherwise called Dr. Lambe, together with his ignominious death, with a wood-cut of the populace pelting him to death in the City of London." 4^o 1628.]

[Footnote 77: Banks was a Scotchman, and his performing horse had the rare honour of being alluded to by Shakspeare ("Love's Labour's Lost" Act i. s. 2). Moth says to Armado. "Why Sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here's three studied, ere you'll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, _the dancing horse will tell you_." The horse was certainly wonderfully trained, and is spoken of in Tarlton's Jests, as having picked him out as being the biggest fool in the company. His tricks were marvellous, but perhaps his most noted feat was riding up the steeple of St. Paul's in the year 1600. This feat is mentioned in the following books. Decker's Dead-Tearme--Owle's Almanack, 1618--The Meeting of Gallants at an Ordinarie, or the Walkes in Powles, 1604--The Blacke Booke, 1604--Northward Hoe, 1607--Rowley's Search for Money, 1609--Decker's Gul's Horn-book, 1609--and His Jests to make you merie, 1607. The horse afterwards went a continental trip, where he excited great wonder, and his high training was put down to witchcraft. Indeed a rumour was spread about that both he and his master were burnt for sorcery; but this was not so, for in Charles I.'s reign mention is more than once made of Banks being a vintner in Cheapside. The horse's name was Marocco, and there was a very curious book printed in 1595, called "Maroccus extaticus or Bankes Bay Horse in a Trance," etc.]

_The Tanner and the Butcher's dogge._

[52.] A Country Tanner that was runing hastily through Eastcheape and having a long Pike-Staffe on his shoulder, one of the Butchers dogs caught him by the breech. The fellow got loose, and ranne his pike into the Dogs throat, and killed him. The Butcher seeing that his Dog was kill'd tooke hold of the Tanner, and carried him before the Deputy, who asked him, What reason he had to kill the dogge? For mine owne defence (quoth the Tanner). Why, quoth the Deputy, hast thou no other defence but present death? Sir, quoth the Tanner, London fashions are not like the Countries, for here the stones are fast in the streets, and the Dogs are loose, but in the Country, the dogs are fast tied, and the stones are loose to throw at them; and what should a man do in this extremity, but use his staffe for his own defence? Marry (quoth the Deputy) if a man will needs use his staffe, he might use his blunt end, and not the sharp pike. True, Master Deputy, quoth the Tanner, but you must consider, if the Dog had used his blunt end, and runne his taile at me, then had there good reason for me to do the like; but I vow Master Deputy, the Dogge came sharpe at me, and fastned his teeth in my breech, and I again ranne sharp at him, and thrust my pike into his belly. By my faith a crafty knave, quoth the Deputy, if you will both stand to my verdict, send for a quart of wine, be friends, and so you are both discharged.

_Cede majoribus._

I took the wall, one rudely thrust me by, [5.] And told me the high way did open lye, I thankt him that he would mee so much grace, To take the worse and leave the better place. For if by owners we esteem of things The wall's the subject's, but the way the King's.

[32.] What is the most profitable beast, and that men eat least on? _Solution._ It is a Bee, for it maketh both hony and wax, and yet costeth his master nothing the keeping.

Mr. _Button_ being dead, [12.] He was so fat, one said That his Grave was three foot o're; Why, you talk like a Fool, 'Tis but a Button-hole To Graves I have made before.

[54.] Act 1. s. 6. Dame Purecraft. Win the fight Littlewit (her daughter) John Little wit (a Proctor, Win's husband) Zeal of the land Busy (a _Banbury_[F. 78] man suitor to Dame Purecraft.)

_Purecraft._ Now the blaze of the beauteous discipline, fright away this evill from our house! how now _Win the fight_, Child: how do you? Sweet child, speake to me.

_Win._ Yes forsooth.

_Pure._ Looke up, sweet _Win the fight_, and suffer not the enemy to enter you at this doore, remember that your education has bin with the purest; what polluted one was it, that nam'd first the uncleane beast, Pigge, to you, Child?

_Win._ Uh, uh.

_John._ Not I, o' my sincerity, mother; she long'd above three houres, ere she would let me know it; who was it _Win_?

_Win._ A prophane blacke thing with a beard, John.

_Pure._ O! resist it, _Win the fight_, it is the Tempter, the wicked Tempter, you may know it by the fleshly motion of Pig; be strong against it, and its foule temptations, in these assaults, whereby it broacheth flesh and blood, as it were, on the weaker side, and pray against its carnall provocations, good child, sweet child, pray.

_John._ Good mother, I pray you, that she may eate some Pigge, and her bellyfull too; and doe not you cast away your owne child, and perhaps one of mine, with your tale of the Tempter: how doe you, _Win_? Are you not sicke?

_Win._ Yes, a great deale _John_ (uh, uh).

_Pure._ What shall we doe? call our zealous brother _Busy_ hither, for his faithfull fortification in this charge of the adversary; childe, my dear childe, you shall eate Pigge; be comforted, my sweet childe.

_Win._ I,[F. 79] but i' the _Fayre_, mother.

_Pure._ I meane i' the _Fayre_, if it can be any way made, or found lawfull; where is our brother _Busy_? Will hee not come? looke up, Child.

_John._ Presently, mother, as soone as he has cleans'd his beard. I found him fast by the teeth, i' the cold Turkey pye, i' th' cupbord, with a great white loafe on his left hand, and a glasse of _Malmesey_ on his right.

_Pure._ Slander not the _Brethren_ wicked one.

_John._ Here hee is, now, purified, Mother.

_Pure._ O brother _Busy_! your helpe heere to edifie, and raise us up in a Scruple, my daughter _Win the fight_ is visited with a naturall disease of women; call'd A longing to eate Pigge.

_John._ I, Sir, a _Bartholomew_[F. 80] pigge; and in the _Fayre_.

_Pure._ And I would be satisfied from you, Religiously-wise, whether a widdow of the sanctified assembly, or a widdowes daughter, may commit the act, without offence to the weaker sisters.