Part 9

_Busy._ Verily, for the disease of longing, it is a disease, a carnall disease, or appetite, incident to women: and as it is carnall, and incident, it is naturall, very naturall: Now Pigge, it is a meat, and a meat that is nourishing, and may be long'd for, and so consequently eaten; it may be eaten; very exceeding well eaten; but in the _Fayre_, and as a _Bartholomew_-pig it can not be eaten, for the very calling it a _Bartholomew_-pigge, and to eate it so, is a spice of _Idolatry_, and you make the _Fayre_ no better than one of the high _Places_. This, I take it is the state of the question. A high place.

_John._ I, but in a state of necessity, _Place_ should give place Mr _Busy_. (I have a conceit left, yet)

_Pure._ Good brother _Zeale of the land_, thinke to make it as lawfull as you can.

_John._ Yes, Sir, and as soone as you can; for it must be, Sir; you see the danger my little wife is in Sir.

_Pure._ Truely, I doe love my child dearely, and I would not have her miscarry or hazard her first fruites if it might be otherwise.

_Busy._ Surely, it may be otherwise, but it is subject to construction, subject, and hath a face of offence, with the weake, a great face, a foule face, but that face may have a vaile put over it and be shaddowed, as it were, it may be eaten, and in the _Fayre_, I take it, in a Booth, the tents of the wicked: the place is not much, not very much, we may be religious in midst of the prophane, so it be eaten with a reformed mouth, with _Sobriety_, and humblenesse; not gorg'd in with gluttony, or greedinesse; there's the feare: for should she goe there, as taking pride in the place, or delight in the uncleane dressing, to feed the vanity of the eye, or the lust of the palat, it were not well, it were not fit, it were abominable, and not good.

_John._ Nay, I knew that afore, and told her on't, but courage, _Win_, we'll be humble enough; we'll seek out the homeliest Booth i' the _Fayre_, that's certaine; rather than faile, wee'll eate it o' the ground.

* * * * *

_Busy._ In the way of comfort to the weake, I will goe, and eat. I will eate exceedingly, and prophesie; there may be a good use made of it, too, now I thinke on't; by the publike eating of Swines flesh, to professe our hate, and loathing of _Iudaisme_, whereof the brethren stand taxed; I will therefore eate, yea, I will eate exceedingly.

[Footnote 78: A synonym for a Puritan, as Butler says in _Hudibras_--

"Through Banbury I passed, O profane one, And there I saw a Puritane one Hanging of his Cat on Monday For killing of a Rat on Sunday." ]

[Footnote 79: I is frequently used for ay.]

[Footnote 80: It was the proper thing to eat roast sucking pig at Bartholomew fair.]

_Why women weare a fall._

A question 'tis why women weare a fall, [5.] The truth it is to pride they are given all, And pride the proverbe saies must have a fall.

A Gentleman did say [12.] On the last Twelf-day, That Cheese digests ev'ry thing; Y'are dispos'd to jest, And will ne're be at rest, But at all will have a fling. I'le say't o're agen Nay, before any Men, That it causes a good digestion; You'l jest on still, Let me say what I will, Though you ne're are askt the Question.

[32.] What is it that goeth to the water, and leaveth its guts at home? _Solution._ It is a pillow beer,[F. 81] for when it goeth to washing, the pillow and the feathers be left at home.

[Footnote 81: Pillow case.]

[17.] Two Widdows sitting by the fire, were chatting together of their dead Husbands; and one said, come, let us have another candle, for my poor Husband lov'd light, God send him Light ever lasting; and says the other; My poor Husband lov'd a good fire, I wish him Fire everlasting.

[26.] A Young Country Fellow went a Wooing to a Country Lass, and he had on then a speck and Span new Suit with Silver Buttons also; and in all his Discourse with her, he used all the Art he could, to have her take notice of his Buttons; at last when he saw she would take no Notice of them at all: _Well_, says he, _these Silver Buttons keep me so warm_: _Yes_, says she, _you had best lie in them all night, lest you should take cold this frosty weather._

The poore man payes for all.

This is but a dreame which here shall insue, But the Author wishes his words were not true.

To the Tune of _In slumbring sleepe I lay_.

As I lay musing all alone [56.] upon my resting bed, Full many a cogitation did come into my head: And waking from my sleepe, I my dreame to mind did call, Methought I saw before mine eyes, _how poore men payes for all_.

I many objects did behold, in this my frightfull Dreame, A part of them I will unfold; and though my present Theame Is but a fancy you may say, yet many things doe fall Too true alas; for at this day _the poore man payes for all_.

Methought I saw (which caused my care) what I wish were a fable, That poore men still inforced are to pay more than they are able; Me thought I heard them weeping say, their substance was but small, For rich men will beare all the sway, _and poore men pay for all_.

Me thought I saw how wealthy men did grind the poore mens faces, And greedily did prey on them, not pittying their cases: They make them toyle and labour sore, for wages too too small: The rich men in the Tavernes rore, _but poore men pay for all_.

Methought I saw an Usurer old walke in his Fox-fur'd gowne, Whose wealth and eminence control'd the most men in the Towne: His wealth he by extortion got, and rose by others fall, He had what his hands earned not, _but poor men pay for all_.

Me thought I saw a Courtier proud, goe swaggering along, That unto any scarce allow'd the office of his tongue: Me thought wert not for bribery, his Peacocks plumes would fall, He ruffles out in bravery, _but poor men pay for all_.

Me thought I met (sore discontent) some poore men on the way, I asked one whither he went, so fast, and could not stay? Quoth he, I must go take my Lease, or else another shall, My Landlords riches doe increase, _but poore men pay for all_.

Me thought I saw most stately wives go jetting[F. 82] on the way, That live delightfull idle lives, and go in garments gay: That with the men their shapes doe change, or else they'l chide and brawle, Thus women goe like monsters strange, _but poore men pay for all_.

Me thought I was i' th' countrey where poore men take great paines, And labour hard continually, onely for rich mens gaines: Like th' Israelites in _Egypt_, the poore are kept in thrall, The task-masters are playing kept, _but poore men pay for all_.

Me thought I saw poore Tradesmen i' th' City and else where, Whom rich men keepe as beads-men, in bondage, care, and feare: Thei'l have them worke for what they list, thus weakest goe to the wall, The rich men eate and drinke the best _but poore men pay for all_.

Me thought I saw two Lawyers base one to another say, We have had in hand this poore mans Case, a twelvemonth and a day; And yet wee'l not contented be to let the matter fall, Beare thou with me, & Ile beare with thee _while poore men pay for all_.

Me thought I saw a red-nose Oast, as fat as he could wallow, Whose carkasse, if it should be roast, would drop seven stone of tallow: He grows rich out of measure, with filling measure small, He lives in mirth and pleasure, _but poore men pay for all_.

And so likewise the Brewer stout, the Chandler and the Baker, The Mault man also without doubt, and the Tobacco taker, Though they be proud and stately growne, and beare themselves so tall, Yet to the world it is well knowne, _that poore men pay for all_.

Even as the mighty fishes still, doe feed upon the lesse; So rich men, might they have ther will would on the poore man ceaze[F. 83] It is a proverbe old and true, that weakest goe to th' wall, Rich men can drinke till th' sky looke blue, _but poore men pay for all_.

But now, as I before did say, this is but a Dreame indeed, Though all dreames prove not true, some may hap right, as I doe reade. And if that any come to passe, I doubt this my Dreame shall; For still tis found too true a case, _that poore men pay for all_.

FINIS.

Printed at London for H. G.

[Footnote 82: Strutting.]

[Footnote 83: Seize.]

_A Witty answer of a Countrey fellow._

[52.] A Country fellow walking London Streets, and gazing up and down at every sight he saw, some mockt him, others pulled him by the Cloake, in so much he could not passe in quiet. He having as much wit, as the boyes knavery, thought hee would requite them for their kinde salutations, with something to laugh at, and to try their wits; and, comming to Paul's gate, where they sell pinnes and Needles, the boyes being very saucie, pulled him by the cloake, and one said. What lacke you friend? another, What lacke you Countryman? Quoth the fellow, minding to make himself some sport, I want a hood for a Humble Bee, or a payre of Spectacles for a blinde Beare: which so amazed the boy, that he had nothing to reply, and the Countrey Man went laughing away.

[32.] What is that which 20 will goe into a Tankard, and one will fill a Barn?

_Solution._ It is 20 Candles not lighted and one lighted.

A Sort of Clownes for loss which they sustain'd [51.] By Souldiers, to the Captaine sore complain'd, With dolefull wordes, and very woefull faces, They Moov'd him to compassionate their Cases. Good Sir (sayes one) I pray redress our wrong, They that have done it, unto you belong; Of all that eare we had we are bereft, Except our very Shirts, theres nothing left. The Captaine answer'd thus; Fellowes heare mee: My Souldiers rob'd you not, I plainely see: At your first speech, you made me somewhat sad, But your last wordes resolv'd the doubt I had. For they which rifled you left Shirts (you say) And I am sure mine carry all away: By this I know an errour you are in, My Souldiers would have left you but your skin.

[4.] A brisk young Lady, seeing the Sheriff of a County who was a comely young Man, wait upon the Judge who was an old Man, was asked by one, which she had most mind to, the Judge or the Sheriff? She answered, the Sheriff. He asking the reason, she replied, _That she loved Judgement well, but Execution much better_.

One did praise dead Beer, [12.] Says his Friend, I fear That you have a Worm in your Head; Why de'e praise dead Beer? So must you too I swear, We must all speak well of the dead.

[52.] It chanced, on a Bartholomew-day, when men keep Boothes in Smithfield, a Countrey Gentleman having some Store of money (and no lesse honesty) about him, comming to the Faire, would, amongst the rest needes view the pictures at that time hanging in the Cloysters, where was then much variety of postures, personages, stories, landskips, and such like, which carieth away the Senses, to a kinde of admiration for the present: and as he was thus gazing up and down, there comes a nimble diver (as at that time there resorts many) and closes with him, and quickly draws his purse forth of his pocket, and away he hies him presently: the Gentleman mist his purse, but knew not how to helpe himselfe. Going home to his lodging, and pondering in his minde how either to regain his losses, or to be revenged on the Pick-pocket, at length he bethought himself of this device: he caused an honest Taylor to sew a certain number of Fish hookes within, and round about the mouth of his pocket; with the poynts of the hookes hanging downward, and the next day hies him to the same place, in another Countrey like habit, and baites his Pocket with more money, and there he stood gazing againe at the pictures, presently his former fish (or one of his fraternity) closes with him again, and dives, which the Gentleman being watchfull of, gives a slip aside and had presently strucke the nibling fish into the hand, and feeling him fast, begins to goe away, and the more he hastes away, the deeper the hookes went into the Divers hand, Oh, (quoth the Pick-pocket) how now Sir (quoth the Gentleman) what makes your hand in my Pocket? Pull it out I say: Oh Sir (quoth he) I beseech you be good to me: The people gathering together, imagined the Gentleman had an inchanted Pocket, and that the fellow had not power to pull forth his hand again, they would have him before the Justice. No (quoth the Gentleman) Ile carry him myselfe, so away he went (with the fellowes hand in his Pocket) to a Taverne, with two or three of his friends, and told him what he had lost there the day before, and unlesse he would restore it, he would have him before a Justice: which match the fellow for feare of hanging, willingly condescended to surrender. And that ten pound, and ten shillings more towards the mending of his Pocket: so the Gentleman being well satisfied, ript forth his pocket, and away went the Cutpurse, who had so much picking worke to get out of his hands, he could not use his trade for a Moneth after.

[32.] I came to a tree where were apples, I eat no apples, I gave away no apples, nor I left no apples behind me: and yet I eat, gave away, and left behind me. _Solution._ There were three apples on the tree, for I eat one apple, gave away one apple, and left one. So I eat no apples, for I eat but one apple, which is no apples, and thus I gave away no apples, for I gave but one, and thus I left no apples for I left but one.

When _Crassus_ in his office was instal'd, [5.] For summs of money, which he yet doth owe, A client by the name of Clerk him Call'd, As he next day to Westminster did go. Which _Crassus_ hearing, whispers thus in's eare, Sirrah, you now mistake, and much do erre, That henceforth must the name of Clerke forbear, And know I am become an Officer. Alas (quoth he) I did not so much marke, Good Mr Officer, that are no clerke.

[8.] When Sir _Thomas Moore_ lived in the City of _London_, being one of the Justices of Peace, he used to go to the Sessions at _New-gate_, where it fell out that one of the ancientest Justices of the Bench was wont to chide the poor men whose purses had been cut, for not being more careful; telling them their negligence was the cause that so many cut-purses were brought thither, which when Sir _Thomas Moore_ observed him so often to repeat at one time, especially; the night after, he sent for one of the chief Cut-purses that was in prison, and promised to save him harmless, and stand his friend too, if he would cut the aforesaid Justices Purse the next day as he sate on the Bench, and then presently make a sign of it to him: the fellow very gladly promiseth him to do it the next day; therefore, when they sate again, that Thief was called among the first, who, being accused of his fact, said he did not doubt but that he could sufficiently excuse himself, if he were permitted to speak to some of the Bench in private. He was therefore bid to chuse one who he would, and presently he chose that grave old man, who then had his pouch at his girdle, as they wore them in those dayes; and whilst he whispered him in the ear, he cunningly cut his purse, and then solemnly taking his leave, returns to his place. Sir _Thomas_ knowing by a private sign, that the business was dispatcht, presently took occasion to move the Bench to distribute some alms to a poor needy fellow that was there, and for good example began himself to do it; when the old man came to open his purse, and sees it cut away, and, much wondering, said he was confident he brought it with him when he came thither that morning, Sir _Thomas_ replied presently, _What! will you charge any of us with felony?_ But his choler rising, and he being ashamed of the thing, Sir _Thomas_ calls the Cut-purse and bids him give him his purse again, and withal advised the good old Justice hereafter _Not to be so bitter a censurer of innocent mens negligence, when as himself could not secure his purse in that open assembly_.

A merry Jest of _John Tomson_ and _Jakaman_ his Wife Whose Jealousie was justly the cause of all their strife.

To the Tune of Pegge of Ramsey.[F. 84]

When I was a Batchelour [57.] I liv'd a merry life, But now I am a married man, and troubled with a wife, I cannot doe as I have done, because I live in feare, If I goe but to _Islington_, my wife is watching there _Give me my yellow Hose againe_, _give me my yellow hose;_ _For now my wife she watcheth me_, _see yonder where she goes_.

But when I was a prentice bound, and my Indentures made: In many faults I have beene found yet never thus afraid. For if I chance now by the way a woman for to kisse, The rest are ready for to say thy Wife shall know of this. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

Thus when I come in company I passe my mirth in feare, For one or other merrily, will say my wife is there. And then my look doth make them laugh, to see my wofull case: How I stand like _John hold my staffe_, and dare not shew my face. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

There comes a handsome woman in, and shakes me by the hand: But how my wife she did begin, now you shall understand. Faire dame (quoth she) why dost thou so? he gave his hand to me: And thou shalt know before thou go, he is no man for thee. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

Good wife (quoth she) now doe not scould, I will doe so no more; I thought I might have beene so bolde I knowing him before. With that my wife was almost mad, yet many did intreat her; And I, God knowes, was very sad, for feare she would have beat her. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

Thus marriage is an enterprise experience doth show; But scolding is an exercise, that married men doe know. For all this while there was no blowes, yet still their tongues was talking; And very fain would yellow hose have had her fists a walking. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

In comes a neighbour of our towne, an honest man, God wot: And he must needes goe sit him downe, and call in for his pot. And said to me, I am the man which gave to you your wife, And I will doe the best I can, to mend this wicked life. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

I gave him thankes, and bad him goe, and so he did indeed, And told my wife she was a shrow, but that was more than need. Saith he, thou hast an honest man, and one that loves thee well; Said she, you are a foole, good sir, It's more than you can tell. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

And yet in truth he loveth me, but many more beside; And I may say, good Sir, to thee, that I cannot abide, For though he loves me as his life yet now, sir, wot you what, They say he loves his neighbours wife, I pray you how like you that. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

Saith he, I hope I never shall seeke fancy fond to follow, For love is lawfull unto all except it be too yellow. Which lyeth like the Jaundies so, in these our Women's faces; That watch their husbands where they go and hunt them out in places. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

Now comes my Neighbour's wife apace, to talke a word or two, My wife then meets her face to face, and saith, dame, is it you That makes so much of my good man, as if he were your owne? Then clamp as closely as you can, I know it will be known. _Give me my yellow hose &c._

Now when I saw the woman gone, I call'd my wife aside, And said why art thou such a one, that thou canst not abide A woman for to talke with mee, this is a wofull case, That I must keepe no company except you be in place. _Give me my yellow hose &c._

This maketh Batchelers to wooe so long before they wed, Because they heare that women now will be their husband's head. And seven yeare long I tarried for Jakaman my wife, But now that I am married I am weary of my life. _Give me my yellow hose &c._

For yellow love is too, too bad, without all wit or policie, And too much love hath made her mad, and fill'd her full of Jelousie. She thinkes I am in love with those I speake to passing by That makes her wear the yellow hose I gave her for to dye. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

But now I see shee is so hot and lives so much at ease, I will goe get a Souldiers coate, and sayle beyond the Seas; To serve my Captain where and whan, though it be to my paine, Thus farewell gentle Jakaman, till we two meet againe. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

Quoth she, good husband, doe not deale thus hardly now with me, And of a truth, I will reveale my cause of jealousie: You know I alwaies paid the score, you put me still in trust, I saved twenty pound and more, confesse it needes I must. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

But now my saving of the same, for aught that I doe know; Made Jelousie to fire her frame, to weave this web of woe: And thus this foolish love of mine was very fondly bent, But now my gold and goods are thine, good husband, be content. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._

And thus to lead my life a new, I fully now purpose; That thou maist change thy coat of blew, and I my yellow hose. This being done, our Country wives may warning take by me, How they doe live such jealous lives, as I have done with thee. _Give me my yellow Hose &c._ M. L.

FINIS.

Imprinted at London for Edward Wright.[F. 85]--

[Footnote 84: For tune, see Appendix.]

[Footnote 85: Edward Wright lived at Christ Church Gate, and published between 1620 and 1655, at which date he assigns to W. Gilbertson.]

[17.] Two riding down a great hill together, one said, it was dangerous riding down: No, says t'other, I will not light; for I have but one pair of shooes, and I shall spoil 'em: says the other, and I have but one neck, and I fear I shall spoil that, and therefore I'l. light.

One hung a dirty sheet [12.] On a pale in the street, And there it did hang all the day But 'twas stole at Night, Says the Man, by this light They have stole it clean away.