Doctor Merrie-man, or, Nothing but mirth written by S.R.

Doctor Merry-man, or, Nothing but Mirth. A Citizen for recreation ſake, To ſee the Country would a iourney take, Some dozen Mile, or very little more; Taking his leaue with friends, two months before With drinking health's, and ſhaking by the hand, As he had trauail'd to ſome new-found land. Well, taking Horſe with very much adoe, London he leaueth for a day or two; And as he rideth, meetes vpon the way Such, as (what haſte ſoeuer) bid men ſtay: Sirrah ſayes one, ſtand, and your Purſe deliuer; I am a taker, thou muſt be a giuer. Vnto a Wood hard by, they hale him in, And riffle him vnto his very skin. Maiſters (quoth he) pray heare mee ere you go, For you haue rob'd more now then you do know: My Horſe in troth I borrow'd of my Brother, The Bridle and the Saddle of another: The Ierkin and the Baſes be a Taylours, The Scarfe (I do aſſure you) is a Saylours: The falling Band is likewiſe none of mine, Nor Cuffes as true as this good light doth ſhine: The Sattin Doublet and Rays'd-veluet Hoſe Are our Church-wardens (all the Pariſh knowes) The Bootes are Iohn the Grocers at the Swan, The Spurres were lent me by a Seruing-man: One of my Rings (that with the great red ſtone) A Mony-monger choyce of Suerties had, A Country-fellow, plaine in Ruſſet clad; His Doublet Mutton-taffaty, Sheeps skins, His Sleeues at hand button'd with two good pins, Vpon his head a filthy greazie Hat That had a hole (eate thorow by ſome Rat) A Leather Pouch, that with a Snap-haunce ſhut, Two hundred Hob-nayles in his Shooes were put: The Stockings that his clowniſh Legges did fit, Were Kerſie to the calfe, and t'other knit: And at a word, th'apparell that he wore, Was not worth Twelue-pence, ſold at, Who giues more? The other Suertie, of an other ſtuffe, All Silke and Veluet, in his double Ruffe, Made Lawne and Cambricke, both ſuch common ware; His duble ſet, had Falling-band to ſpare., His faſhion new, with laſt edition ſtood, His Rapier hilts embrew'd in Golden blood: And theſe ſame trappings made him ſeeme one ſound, To paſſe his credit for a Hundred pound: So was accepted, Ruſſet-coate denay'd: But when time came the Money ſhould be pay'd, And Mounſieur Vſurer did haunt him out, Strange alteration ſtrooke his heart in doubt: For in the Counter he was gone to dwell, And Brokers had his painted Cloaths to ſell: The Vſurer then further vnderſtands, The Clowne refus'd, was rich▪ and had good lands; Ready through rage to hange himſelfe, he ſwore, That Silken knaues ſhould cozen him no more. A Wealthy Miſers Sonne, vpon the way, Met a poore Youth, that did intreat and pray Some-thing of Charitie in his diſtreſſe; Helpe ſir (quoth hee) one that is Fatherleſſe. Sirrah (ſayd hee) away: be gone with ſpeed; Ile helpe none ſuch; thou art a Knaue in deed. Doſt thou complaine, becauſe thou want'ſt a Father? Were it my caſe, I would reioyce the rather: For if thy Fathers death, cauſe thee repine, I would my Father had excuſed thine. A Country fellow had a Dreame, Which did his minde amaze, That ſtarting vp, he wakes his wife, And thus to her he ſayes. Oh Woman riſe, and helpe our Gooſe, For euen the beſt we haue, Is preſently at poynt to die, Vnleſſe her life you ſaue; On either ſide of her I ſee A hungry Foxe doth ſit, But ſtaying, vpon curteſie Who ſhall begin firſt bit. Husband (quoth ſhe) if this be all, I can your Dreame expound, The perfect meaning of the ſame I inſtantly haue found. The Gooſe betweene two Foxes plac't, Which in your ſleepe you ſaw, Is you your ſelfe that prooue a Gooſe, In going ſtill to law. On eyther ſide a Lawyer comes, And they doe feathers pull, That in the end, you will be left A bare and naked Gull. Wife, in good troth (quoth he) I thinke, Thou art iuſt in the right, My Purſe can witneſſe to my griefe, They doe begin to bite: I doe reſolue an other courſe, And much commend thy wit; Ile leaue the Gooſes part for them That haue a minde to it: And if thou euer finde that I To lawing humors fall, Let mee be hang'd at Weſtminſter, (Wife) Ile for-ſweare the Hall. AN idle fellow that would take no paine, Looking that others ſhould his ſtate maintaine, Was ſharpe reproou'd by an honeſt friend, Who told him, Man was made to other end Then onely eate, and drinke, and ſleepe, and play. To whom the lazie creature thus did ſay; (Sir) I doe nere intende to labour much, Becauſe I ſee the bad reward of ſuch As take moſt paynes: Horſes that labour great, Are caſt in ditches for the Dogges to eate. A Craftie kind of knauiſh foole, Where of there plentie bee, Did breake his Miſtris looking-Glaſſe. And ſwore it was not hee: His Maiſter did examine him, Demaunding who it was, (Sir) if youle be content (quoth he) Ile tell who broke the Glaſſe. With that, he brought him in the Hall, To Fortunes Picture there, Saying, Sir, t'was Fortune did the de • d, She ought the blame to beare. His Maiſter tooke a Cudgell, And belabour'd him withall, Who crying out for mercie, downe Before his feete did fall. Nay (quoth his Maiſter) tis not I, To Fourtune you muſt ſpeake, For euen ſhe that cudgels you, The Glaſſe before did breake. A Sort of Clownes for loſſe which they ſuſtain'd By Souldiers, to the Captaine ſore complain'd, With dolefull words, and very wofull faces, They mou'd him to compaſſionate their caſes. Good Sir (ſayes one) I pray redreſſe our wrong, They that haue done it, vnto you belong: Of all that ere we had, we are bereft, Except our very Shirts, nothing is left. The Captaine anſwer'd thus; Fellowes heare mee: My Souldiers rob'd you not, I plainely ſee: At your firſt ſpeach you made me ſomwhat ſad, But your laſt words reſolude the doubt I had: The greateſt Monarch that on earth we finde, Puts off to mee: Mower you come behinde. Th'other reply'd, Barber in vaine you iarre, I haue a priuiledge exceeds you farre; For when by mee, the Graſſe with Sieth is ſhorne, Or that my Sickle cutteth downe the Corne, Vpon the ſtumps I boldly can vntruſſe: What Barber on his worke, that dare doe thus? AN humorous phantaſtick Aſſe, Whoſe Wit and Wealth were ſpent, Did in all companies he came Boaſt of his great diſcent. And all the Gentlemen he knew, Vnto his blood were baſe: For he could prooue from Noes great Flood, His ſtocke of royall raſe. Pray Sir (quoth one) take no more paynes In this ſame worthy thing, For it is moſt apparant plaine, From what old Houſe you ſpring. You may iuſt prooue your Pedigree From Noah to this hower: Your Anceſtors good Maſons were, That wrought on Babell Tower. And were I as your Worſhip is, In ſpight of Bricklayers hall, I would giue Trowell in mine Armes, A Ladder, Tray, and all. GEntlemen that approch about my ſtall, To moſt rare Phiſicke I inuite you all; Come neere and harken what I haue to ſell, And deale with me all thoſe that are not well. In this Boxe heere, I haue ſuch precious ſtuffe, To giue it prayſe, I haue not words enough: If any Humour in your Braines be crept, Ile fetch it out, as if your Heads were ſwept. Almoſt through Europe I haue ſhowne my face, In euery Towne and euery Market place; Behold this Salue; I doe not vſe to lye, Whole Hoſpitals, there haue bin curde thereby. I doe not ſtand heere, like a tatter'd ſlaue, My Veluet and my Chaine of Gold I haue: Which cannot be maintained by mens lookes: Friends, all your Towne is hardly worth my Bookes. There ſtandes my Coach and Horſes, t'is mine owne; From hence to Turkie is my credit knowne: In few I cannot boaſt as many will; Let nothing ſpeake for me but onely skill. See you that thing, like Ginger-bread lies there? My tongue cannot expreſſe to any eare The ſundry vertues that it doth containe, Or number halfe the Wormes that it hath ſlaine. If in your bellies there be Crawlers bred In multitudes, like Haires vpon your head: Within ſome houre ſpace, or thereabout, At all the holes you haue, Ile fetch them out, And ferret them before that I haue done, Euen like the Hare that foorth a buſh doth run. Heere is a wond'rous Water for the Eye, This for the Stomacke: Maiſters will you buy? When I am gone, you will repent too late, And then, like fooles, among your ſelues will prate, Oh that we had that famous Man againe, When I ſhall be ſuppli'd in France or Spaine: Now for a Stoter, you a Box may haue, That will the liues of halfe a dozen ſaue. My Man is come, and in mine eare he ſayes, At home for me, atleast are hundred ſtayes; All Gentlemen, wet for your good you ſee, I make them tarry and attend formee: Yf that you haue no Money, let me know, Phiſicke of almes, vpon you lie beſtow. What Doctor in the world can offer more? Such arrant Clownes I neuer knew before? Here you do ſtand like Owles and gaze on mee, But not a penny from you I can ſee. A man ſhall come to do such dunces good, And can not hare his meaning vnderſtood, To talke to ſenceleſſe people is in vaine, Ile ſee you hangd ere I come heere againe: Be all Diſeaſ'd as bad as Horſes be, And die in Ditches like to Dogges forme: An old Wiues Medicine, Parſely, Time, and Sage, Will ſerue ſuch Buzzards in this ſcuruy age: Gooſe-greafe and Fenell, with a few Dog-dates, Is excellent for ſuch baſe lowzy mates: Farewell, ſome Hempton Haulter be the charme, To ſtretch your neckes as long as is mine arme. ONe came to court a Wench which was preciſe, And by the ſpirit did the fleſh diſpiſe, Moouing a ſecret match betweene them two; But ſhe in ſooth and ſadneſſe would not doe. He did reply, ſo ſweete a faire as ſhee, Made of the ſtuffe as all fraile women bee; Ought by the law of Nature to be kinde, And ſhew her ſelfe to heare a womans minde. Well Sir (quoth ſhe) you men do much preuail • With cunning ſpeeches and a pleaſing tale; Tis but a folly to be ouer nice, You ſhall: but twentie ſhillings is my price: Abrace of Angels if you will beſtow, Come ſuch a time, and I am for you, ſo. Well, he tooke leaue, and with Her husband met, Told him by bond be was to pay a debt: Intreating him to do ſo good a deed, As lend him twentie ſhillings at his need▪. Which very kind he preſent did extend, And th'other willing on his Wife did ſpend: So taking leaue with her, he goes his wayes▪ Meeting his Creditor within few dayes, And told him, Sir, I was at home to pay The twentie ſhillinges which you lent laſt day: And with your wife (becauſe you were not their) I left it pray you with my holdneſſe beare. Tis well (quoth he) I am glad I did you pleaſure, So comming home, queſtions his Wife a Meaſure: I pray ſweete heart, was ſuch a man with thee▪ To pay two Angels, which he had of mee▪ She bluſh't, and ſayd; hee hath been 〈…〉 ed in deed, But you did ill to▪ lend; Husband take heed: The falſhood of the world you doe not ſpie, It is not good to truſt before we try: Pray lend no more, for it may breed much ſtrife, To haue ſuch Knaues come home to pay your Wife. A Crew of Foxes, all on theeuing ſet, Togeather at a Countrie Hen-rooſt met, Where the poore Poultrie went to greeuous wrack; For there they feaſted till their guts did crack, Hauing well ſup't, ready to goe away, Without demaunding what they had to pay; Sayes one vnto the reſt: Friens harke vnto mee, Lets poynt where our next meeting place ſhall bee. With a good-will ſayes one aboue the reſt, At ſuch a Farmers houſe, his Lambs be beſt. Nay (quoth another) I doe know a Clowne, Hath euen the fatteſt Geeſe in all the Towne: Well Maiſters, ſayd a graue and auncient Fox, Had bin the death of many Hens and Cox, The ſureſt place to meete, that I can tell, Will be the Skinners ſhop: and ſo farewell. A Shepheard that a carefull eye did keepe, Vnto the ſafetie of his grazing Sheepe; Perceiu'd a Wolfe through the hedge to prie: Sirrah (quoth he) pray, what make you ſo nie? Why (ſayd the Wolfe) thou ſeeſt I doe no ill, Thy Flocks are farre enough vpon the hill. What Iuſtice now a dayes theſe people lacks? The Crowes ride boldly on thy Cattels backs, And not a word thou ſayſt to them at all; Yet but for looking on, with me doſt braule. The Prouerb's true, for now I finde it well, Which once I heard an auncient old Wolfe tell: He that vpon a bad ill name doth light, Is euen halfe hang'd, as good be hang'd out-right; And I my ſelfe by proofe can now alledge, Some better ſteale, then ſome looke ore the hedge. THe Diuell did complaine he was not well, And would goe take ſome Phiſicke out of Hell: To England, France, and Spaine, with ſpeed he got, Where all refuſde him, he did burne ſo hot. In haſte he then to Germanie did hie, The cunning of a Quack-ſalu • r to trie; Where in a market place, vpon a Stage, He found a fellow could all griefes aſſwage. Doctor (quoth he) I want ſome of thy skill, For I do finde I am exceeding ill: And any thing for eaſe I will endure; What, wilt thou vndertake my paine to cure? If thou canſt eaſe the maladie I haue, Thou ſhalt haue Gold, euen what thy ſelfe wilt craue. Gentleman (ſayd this Doctor to the Diuell) Vpon my life, Ile rid you of your euill; Make vnto me thoſe griefes you haue but knowne, And with the curing them, let mee alone. Why Sir (uoth he) my Head with Hornes doth ake, My Braines doth Brimſtone-like Tobacco take; My Eyes are full of euer-burning Fire, My Tongue a drop of Water doth deſire; About my Heart doth crawling Serpents cre • pe, And I can neither eate, nor drinke, nor ſleepe: There's no Diſeaſes whatſoere they bee, But I haue all of them impoſde on mee. All torments that the tongue of man can name, Within, without, in a continuall flame. Quoth the Quack-ſaluer, Sir, Ile vndertake A ſound man of you in a month to make: Wilt pleaſe your Worſhip, ſhew me where you dwell? Marry (quoth he) my Chamber is in Hell: Thy charges in the iourney I will beare, And Ile preferre thee to the Diuell there. With ſpeed get vp, Ile take thee on my backe. The World may ſpare you, and in Hell we lacke. A Biſhop met two Prieſts vpon the way, And did ſalute them with the time of day: Good-morrow Clarks, vnto you both (quoth he.) Sir (they repli'd) no Clarkes, but Prieſtes are we. Why (ſayd the Biſhop) then I will conſent Vnto the title of your owne content: Since you denie to carry Schollers markes, Good-morrow to you Prieſtes (that are no Clarkes:) ONe climbing of a Tree, by hap Fell downe and brake his Arme, And did complaine vnto a friend Of his vnluckie harme. Would I had counſel'd you before (Quoth he) to whom he ſpake; I know a tricke for Climbers, That they neuer hurt ſhall take. Neighbour (ſayd he) I haue a Sonne, And he doth vſe to climbe, Pray let me know that ſame for him, Againſt another time. Why thus (quoth he) let any man That liues, climbe nere ſo hie: And make no more haſte downe, then vp, No harme can come thereby. AN aged Gentleman, ſore ſicke did lie, Expecting life, that could not chuſe but die: His Foole came to him, and in trateth this? Good Maiſter ere you goe away from vs, Beſtow on Iacke (that oft hath made you laugh) Againſt he waxeth old, your walking-Staffe. I will (quoth he) goe take it, there it is; But on condition Iacke, which ſhall be this: If thou doe meete with any while thou liue, More Foole then thou, the Staffe thou ſhalt him giue. Maiſter (ſayd he) vpon my life I will, But I do hope that I ſhall keepe it ſtill. When Death drew neare, and faintneſſe did proceed, His Maiſter cals for a Diuine with ſpeed, For to prepare him vnto Heauens way. The Foole ſtarts vp, and haſtily did ſay: Oh Maiſter, Maiſter, take your Staffe againe, That prooue your ſelfe the moſt Foole of vs twaine: Haue you liu'd now, ſome foureſcore yeares and odde, And all this time, are vnprepat'd for God▪ What greater Foole can any meete withall, Then one that's ready in the Graue to fall, And is to ſeeke about his ſoules eſtate, When Death is op'ning of the priſon-gate? Beare witneſſe friends, that I diſcharge me plaine▪ Heere Maiſter, heere, receiue your Staffe againe: Vpon the ſame condition I did take it, According as you wil'd me, I forſake it. And ouer and aboue, I will beſtow, This Epitaph, which ſhall your folly ſhow. Heere lies a man, at death did heauen claime. But in his life, he neuer ſought the ſame. A Simple Clowne in Flaunders, As he trauailing had bin, (Hauing his Wife in company) I haue my Seruing-men that waite Vpon mee in blew Coates: I haue my Oares that attend My pleaſure, with their Boates: I haue my Champions that will fight, My Louers that do fawne: I haue my Hat, my Hood, my Maske, My Fanne, my Cobweb Lawne: To giue my Gloue vnto a Gull, Is mighty fauour found: When for the wearing of the ſame, It coſts him twentie pound. My Garter as a gracious thing, Another takes away: And for the ſame a ſilken Gowne, The Prodigall doth pay. Then comes an Aſſe, and he forſooth Is in ſuch longing heate, My Busk-poynt euen on his knees, With teares he doth intreat: I graunt it, to reioyce the man, And then requeſt a thing; Which is both Gold and precious ſtone, The Wood-cocks Diamond Ring. Another lowly minded youth, Forſooth my Shooe-ſtring craues, And that he putteth through his eare, Calling the reſt, bace ſlaues. Thus fit I Fooles in humours ſtill, That come to me for game, I puniſh them for Venerte, Leauing their Purſes lame. In New-gate ſome take lodging vp. Till they to Tiburne ride: And others walke to Wood-ſtreet, With a Sargeant by their ſide. Some goe to Hounſ-ditch with their Cloaths To pawne for mony lending: And ſome I ſende to Surgeons ſhops, Becauſe they lacke ſomemending. Others paſſe ragged vp and downe, All tatter'd, rent, and torne; But being in that ſcuruy caſe, Their companies I ſcorne. For if they come and fawne on mee; There's nothing to be got; As ſoone as ere my Merchants breake, I ſweare, I know them not. No entertainment, nor a looke, That they ſhall get of mee: If once I doe begin perceiue That out of caſh they bee, All kindneſſes that I profeſſe, The fayreſt ſhewes I make, Is loue to all that come to mee For Gold and Siluers ſake. To forward men, I forward am; Moſt franke vnto the free: But ſuch as take their wares on truſt, Are not to deale with mee. The World is hard, all things are deare, Good-fellowſhip decayes: And euery one ſeekes profit now, In theſe ſame hungry dayes. Although my trade in ſecret bee, Vnlawfull to be knowne; Yet I will make the beſt I can, Of that which is mine owne. For ſeeing I doe venture faire, At price of whipping cheere, I haue no reaſon but to make My Cuſtomers pay deere: Our charge beſide, is very great To keepe vs fine and braue, A Whore that goes not gallantly, Shall little doinges haue. Therefore all things conſider'd well, Our charges, and our danger: A dayly Friend ſhall pay as much As any Terme-time ſtranger. A Rich man and a poore did both appeare Before a Iudge, an iniurie to cleare: The Rich did tell a tale moſt tedious long, Mending (as he ſuppos'd) with words, the wrong: And euer when the Poore man would haue ſpoke, With bold out-facing ſpeech he did him choke▪ The wofull wight at length could beare no longer, But boldly rais'd his voyce both loud and ſtronger: My Lord (quoth he) pray now bid Diues ſtay, And heare but what poore Lazarus can ſay: My Oxe came in his field, which he doth keepe, And ſweares for that, hee'le pay me with a Sheepe. FINIS.