GRAMMATICAL Drollery.
The Adverbs Quarrel.
THe Adverbs had a Quarrel, as they ſay:
Says ubi, Where? in what place, I pray?
Says ibi, There; and in that very place
Where u and i by u receiv'd diſgrace.
Then Mr. hic did plainly ſay, 'twas here:
Yes, yes, ſays iſtic, in that very place; 'twas there.
One askt whe'r 'twas within doors or without:
Says intus, 'Twas within doors, without doubt.
No, no, ſays foris, I'm certain 'twas abroad,
Where ſome o'th' Adverbs were ſeverely claw'd.
Then one did ask 'em, when began the Fray:
My troth, ſays honeſt hodie, 'twas to day.
Says cras, I fear 'twill laſt to morrow too,
There are ſuch adverſe Adverbs in the Crew.
Alas, ſays perindi
•
, (without laughter)
I fear 'twill laſt until the day after.
Says heri, Yeſterday I heard ſomething on't.
Say olim, In times paſt 'twas their wont.
Says aliquando, Sometimes now and then
Such Jars happen 'mongſt ſuch kind of men.
And 'twas of late ſo, ſays nuper then,
And may, ſays mox be by and by agen.
Says ſtatim, Preſently, for ought I know.
Says cito, Quickly let's prepare to go.
Repente cries, We ſuddenly muſt depart;
And ſubito therein did take his part.
Ocyus ſaid, We quick muſt haſt away:
Yes, ſays jam and modo, juſt now we ſay.
But alias for another time did plead.
Says forſan, Perhaps you'll repent the deed.
Says lente, Haſt makes waſt, go ſlowly on;
We've a weighty matter to think upon.
Says quamdiu then, How long ſhall we ſtay?
Diu ſays, A long while, make no haſt away.
Quotidie, day by day, ill News doth hear.
I'll ſtay, ſays donec, till the coaſt be clear.
Ʋnde askt from whence comes all this prate?
From hence, ſays hinc; we're all unfortunate.
Illinc ſaid, From thence, iſtinc, from that place
Where you and I a Miſtriſs had in chace.
Whither ſhall we flie, ſays quo? Hither, ſays huc.
Illuc ſays, Thither, or you'll have ill luck.
Yes, ſays iſtuc, to that place. Says alio,
To another, or I ſhall fail you, ho.
This Jarring then did breed ſuch a puther,
Aliquo bids go to ſome place or other.
Which way, ſays qua? let us well adviſe.
Says illac, That way take, or y'are not wiſe.
Faith, ſays quacunque, which way ſoere you go,
You'll be beſet on all ſides with the Foe.
How to behave my ſelf, ſays qualiter,
I know not; but am reſolv'd to rail at her
Has been the cauſe on't. Says poor primum,
Firſt I'll to th' trees, and then I'll climb 'um
To be out of danger, I'm ſo perplext.
Says Inde, Then be ſure I'll be the next
To follow ye. After, ſays deinde,
I'll follow too, knew I where to find ye.
Laſtly, ſays denique, Let's go together,
In regard we're all Birds of a Feather.
And then came in a very ſcurvy cur,
Askt 'em why they then made ſuch a ſtir?
Then all did call him cur, which made him cry,
And why cur, ſays he? becauſe cur is why.
Says quare, Wherefore do ye jar?
I fear you'll hear (alas) too much of War.
Quorſum then did ask 'em to what end
They quarrelled, and whither did it tend?
Says heus, Heark ye: ſo ſaid ehodum too,
What's the cauſe ye make ſo much ado?
Truly, ſays profecto, y'are all to blame.
Indeed, ſays ſane, I do ſay the ſame.
Says minime, You muſt in no wiſe jar
Nequaquam, by no means, leſt't prove a War.
I would to God, ſays utinam, you were
As good friends as when ye came here.
Sodes and amabo, of all loves did entreat;
And eia ſaid, Go to, unleſs you'll all be beat.
Says age, Well, una together with me,
Will try if we can make 'em all agree.
Now's the time, ſays nunc, or elſe never;
Not onely now, ſays non modo, but ever.
'Tis always good, ſays ſemper, to be quiet,
Elſe you'll ſurely get but little by it.
Seorſim doth adviſe to go apart
One after another, leſt they all do ſmart.
Yes, ſays imo: and potius ſaid, he had rather
Go one by one, than go altogether.
Poor fere ſaid, he almoſt fear'd to go;
And hand was ſcarcely brought unto it too.
Then ecce he came in, and's Brother en,
Saying (behold) here's none but jangling men.
Perhaps, ſays forte, and fortuito,
You may repent it, yea, and rue it too.
So alſo ſaid their Brother, good fortaſſis,
And call'd 'em all a Crew of drunken Aſſes.
Veluti and ſicut ſaid, They act as 'twere
Like mad men as they go every where.
And ſic likewiſe did ſay the very ſame,
And ſo fell ſick, to ſee all out of frame.
One askt how ſic did: was told, So, ſo.
That's ſic: ſic, ſays he? then he's ill I know.
Quaſi ſaid, Although they were to blame,
Something might be done their Brains to tame.
Says quomodo, But how can it be done?
Says bene, Well, let each take a Gun
And force 'em to't. Recte ſaid, 'twas rightly ſpoke:
Optime ſaid, 'twas beſt way not provoke.
Fortiter then ſtrongly ſpoke, ſaying, Let us
Quickly prevent 'em, leſt they beſet us.
This made fortius more valiant to declare;
And fortiſſime moſt valiant to prepare
'Gainſt any aſſault that might attack 'em:
Which made the major part begin to back 'um.
And docte being learn'd, then began
To give the Character of every man.
But male then being of an evil mind,
Did joyn with peſſime, the worſt inclin'd
To peace of any: Which ſicut hearing,
Said, 'twas like as a War appearing.
And ſo ſaid ceu, As ſicut, ſo ſay I:
So ſays tanquam, velut, and all that fry.
Says multum, nay, it much doth grieve me;
And plurimum, very much believe me.
But parum little cared for what they ſaid;
And minimum the leaſt of all in dread.
And magis more than all the reſt let fly
Likewiſe at tam, but maxime eſpecially.
Paululum a little while did weep
To ſee his Brethren laid by War to ſleep.
Minus was leſs griev'd than all the reſt,
Which prope that was nigh, could not digeſt.
Valde greatly did bemoan their fate,
And told 'em, they'd be all unfortunate.
Nimium ſaid, they were too much inclin'd
To miſchief, and bid 'em change their mind.
Propius and proxime came near'ſt of all
To make an end of this inhumane Brawl.
And admodum did very much deſire
To put an end to this Inteſtine Fire.
Then ſatis came, and cry'd, Enough, enough,
We may ere long have cauſe to make proof
Of your undaunted Courages: till then
Let's all ſhake hands, and be friends agen.
Then num and nunquid, both together
Came to 'em, and did ask 'em whether
They reſolv'd to agree: beliſſime
Moſt fairly ſpoke, ſaid, Yes, come kiſs ye me,
I'll begin: I'll ſecond you then, ſays tunc,
And for this, to night I'll make ye drunk,
And declare, though you were lately Madverbs,
Y'are now become agen ſober Adverbs.
And affatim abundantly did ſpend
To make 'em quiet: They all call'd him friend
While there: but being gone, ſaid affatim
Was a kind fool, and did laugh at him.
Which vix could ſcarce put up, being his friend;
But at the laſt he did: and there's an end.
The POSTSCRIPT.
And being all aſate i'th' Adverbs Hall,
Doctiſſime, the moſt learn'd of all,
Did make a Prepoſition to invite
All the Conjunctions thither that night,
To joyn together in this Harmonie.
They all cry'd out aloud, So let it be.
And eke the Interjections, if 't ſhould chance
A ſudden paſſion too far advance,
They may aſſwage it (as 'tis often ſeen)
By caſting in ſome moderate words between.
Then all with one accord agen did cry,
Doctiſſime, that ſpake ſo learnedly,
Shall be our Chair-man, let's mount him high.
They were ſo very drunk, the Neighbours ſay,
They fell aſleep i'th' Hall, and there they lay.
By which I find, that four o'th' parts of Speech
Were drunk that night, to ſoder up the Breach.
The Battle of the Verbs.
THe Quarrel of the Adverbs being known,
The Verbs were much concerned every one,
And in a fury 'gan to take't to heart,
'Cauſe every one would take his ſervants part:
For to the Verbs they are ſervants all,
And obedient to their Maſters call.
For without them they neither dare nor can
Speak Sence or Reaſon unto any man.
Juſt like thoſe Nouns called Adjectives,
Who truckle ſtill unto their Subſtantives.
Then impero their great Commander, he
Who was the chiefeſt in Authoritie,
Commanded jubeo for to ſummon all
The Verbs together, both great and ſmall,
With all their Arms that they ere did uſe
On ſuch a day at a Rendezvouze.
Colligo gathers them; and duco being made
Their Captain, them to th' Fight doth lead.
Incipio doth begin the Battle, and
Valiant pugno fights him hand to hand.
Clango commands the Trumpet then ſound out;
But clamo he cries all the field about,
Poor timeo is afraid, and fugio ſhuns
The Battle, ſequor follows, curro runs;
Cedo gives ground; which made bold juro ſwear,
And often call'd for vocito to haſt the rear.
Juvo, though long, at laſt doth bring him aid;
Yet amo's being in love, made him afraid.
He then bid doceo teach him how to weild
His ſword: Lego ſaid, 'twas read to him i'th' field.
And I, ſays audio, then did hear the ſame.
Troth, ſays accuſo, then he's much to blame.
Induo was bid to put his Armour on;
And incito to ſtir up, was wrought upon.
Immediately poor jugulo's Throat was cut;
Says inſtigo, he egg'd me on to do't.
Lacco lay hid behind a Quickſet-hedge;
Which video ſeeing, ſet his Teeth an edge
To make complaint. Says haurio, You will draw
An odium on your ſelf: which when cerno ſaw,
He bid laceſſo not provoke too much;
'Twou'd put, ſays pono, courage in a Dutch
Man in the next Line. Liveo then was beat
Quite black and blue, by retro's back-retreat.
And ſalio then over the Ditch would leap;
But aio ſaid, it was too broad and deep.
Dimico in skirmiſh, got two wounds that bled;
And at his feet poor morior ſoon lay dead.
Sepelio buried him, fodio dig'd his Grave,
And honeſt ſcribo writ his Epitaph.
Which ſtir'd up excito to fight agen;
And voco call'd him valianteſt of men.
Bleſs me, ſays beo, how valiantly he fought!
And jubilo for very joy did ſhout.
Caedo, whoere he met, did beat 'em all;
And at the laſt he made poor cado fall.
Candeo then 'gan to look white with fear;
But horreo dreaded nothing, as I hear.
Amplector ſays, I do embrace the Fight;
And aperio did open to the left and right.
Altercor 'gan to wrangle with them all;
Which made arceſſo preſently go to call
Augeo, who did rather increaſe than ſtop
This Jarring; that it ſtir'd honeſt cieo up
To ſpeak to vulgo, that he would publiſh round
The field, that the Enemy then gave ground.
This made fremo roar, and furo to be mad
To follow them. But hortor did exhort that they▪
Should not do't: yet propero did haſt away.
Increpo began to blame him much indeed,
And jurgo chid him ſoundly for that deed.
Then blatero 'gan to babble like an Aſs,
That calco kickt him as by'im he did paſs.
Then cogo ſwore he'd force 'em for to fight;
And cito ſummon'd them all that very night.
Lugeo did mourn, and pray'd there might be peace;
And cudo coin'd a Lye to make 'em ceaſe
Fighting: which made mad execror to curſe.
Ejulo and ploro too did wail, fearing 'twou'd be worſe.
Duro ſaid that he'd endure unto the end,
But damno condemn'd him for it, like a friend.
Fingo did feign a Lye that he might be gone;
But cenſeo cenſur'd him for it, and every one
Beſides. Hio began to gape for breath, they ſay,
And halo wanted breath that very day.
Macto began to kill without remorſe,
And paro did prepare to meet his Force.
Then paveo dreaded this might miſchief bring;
And pendo and pendeo did weigh every thing
In the Ballance of Juſtice: Says oleo, I ſmell
There's Traytors amongſt us; ſays tumeo, I ſwell
With grief to think on't; and ſo did turgeo too;
Says ſuſpicio, I ſuſpect it as well as you,
And blam'd vitupero much, that was the cauſe on't:
Then volo he was forc't to flie upon't.
Nego deny'd that he had any hand in it:
Says ſcrutor, I'll ſearch it out within this minit.
Trunco then did mangle all came near him,
And trudo thruſt ſo ſtrong, that all did fear him.
Temno did deſpiſe all danger that might come,
And vibro brandiſht out his Sword, and lookt grum
Upon 'em all. Vito to avoid this ſtorm,
Hid himſelf in a hollow Tree, (poor worm!)
And viſo likew
•
ſe went to viſit him there.
At laſt vulgo publiſht abroad where they were.
Rogo and peto askt pardon for their fault,
Becauſe they fear'd they might be brought
To puniſhment. And quatio 'gan to ſhake;
Ʋlciſcor ſwore that he revenge would take:
Which made ululo howl for very grief,
Until that venio did come to his relief.
Vindico did challenge any there to fight,
Which renuo did refuſe at the firſt ſight.
Propago did think the Fight for to prolong;
And probro being then among the throng,
Did approve what he had ſaid. And pateo he
Lay open to theſe ſlanders, which made him flee.
Repo did creep from thence into a Wood;
Which veto forbid, ſaying, 'twoud do no good.
Dormio then told 'em he muſt ſleep a while:
Yes, yes, ſays cumbo, lie down on that Pile
Of Bavins. Says exu
•
, Then put off too
Your Arms; 'Tis beſt, ſays facio, ſo to do.
Says cupio, Then faith now I covet drink:
I believe't, ſays credo; but where's the Chink
Muſt purchaſe it? Says do, I give it him.
Come then, ſays pleo, fill it to the brim.
Bold ſcindo then was cut into the brain,
And fluo ſwore the bloud flow'd out amain.
Says frico, Rub his temples well, be ſure,
And I, ſays precor, will pray for his cure.
Which made poor horreo then to dread the Fight;
And gaudio did rejoyce when out of ſight.
Gemo began to groan, being wounded ſore:
Says bibo, Let him drink a little more
O'th' Cordial. But mutio muttering by,
Frango did break his head immediately.
Foveo did cheriſh all this bleeding Crew,
And nutrio he nouriſht ſome of them too.
Foeteo did ſtink for fear, when he did ſee
Ferio ſtrike down another. And fugo he
As well as his Brother fugio, flies. And flo,
With fighting long, began to puff and blow
Fleo did weep extreamly for to ſee
Flagito to beg for's life ſo earneſtly.
I muſt confeſs that fateor got renown;
And fatigo was weary too with looking on.
Fido did truſt too much unto his broken blade,
Which made feſtino haſten unto his aid.
Fallo did deceive 'em all: for when he found
The Bullets hiſs, he fell upon the ground,
That honeſt cogito did think him dead;
Experior too did try to rub his head.
Doleo griev'd that Death ſhould thus oretake him;
Yet expergiſcor did at laſt awake him.
Exerceo then did exerciſe his Crew;
But he like deſero did forſake him too.
Feſto ſtood to it, advenio then comes to him;
Which when obſecro ſaw, he then did woo him
To invade bold ingruo: But ſcandeo he
Did climb for ſafety on an Oaken-tree.
Then ſimulo did counterfeit a wound or two;
Singultio likewiſe ſobs to ſee him ſo.
Ario being dry, did wiſh his inſide wetter;
No matter, ſays ardeo, you'll burn the better.
I was betray'd, ſays prodo, to this diſmal day;
Yet prurio's fingers itcht to fight, they ſay.
Pungo was prickt toth' heart, when upon him
Premo did preſs; yet vinco overcome him.
Meo unto the Battle haſt doth make,
But deſino doth the Field forſake.
Spiro to breathe, doth forbear to ſmite;
But crafty evito doth eſcape the Fight.
Miror in wonder ſtanding much amaz'd,
And faint aſpicio on the Battle gaz'd.
Supero did overcome whoere he met;
And gratulor did the valiant Hero greet.
Spero did hope well; ſperno deſpis'd all flight,
Though redeo returned wounded from the Fight.
Stringo did ſtrain himſelf to overcome
Bold pulſo, who quickly ſtruck him down.
Then tono thundred in with might and main
To help ſuccurro, which was almoſt ſlain.
Ferreo waxt hot by all theſe great Alarms,
And fido truſts more to his feet than arms.
Dimitto ſent a Bullet then ſo right,
The Powder ſcorcht poor uſtulo that night.
Luxo then put his arm quite out of joynt,
That ungo was forc'd at laſt it to anoint.
Erro miſtook the place, and wander'd up and down,
And equito after him rod from Town to Town.
Coruſco's arms gliſter'd in the fight that day,
And mico's ſhin'd likewiſe, as ſome do ſay.
Metuo did fear to meet too, as I hear,
Yet at laſt with miſceo mingled in the rear:
And occulo did hide himſelf behind a Tree,
Which monſtro ſhew'd to all the companie.
Sad verto turn'd from one ſide to the other,
And muto chang'd too, as if he were his Brother.
Nuo did nod his head at ſome were there,
That neco almoſt kill'd him when he came neer.
But mulceo did aſſwage his fury then,
And paco ſtriv'd to appeaſe all theſe men.
Though congruo advis'd them to agree,
And allur'd Lacio of his party to be,
Yet cingo girds his Sword about him then,
And jungo joyns with other marſhal men.
Auſculto hearkens what they meant to do;
Emo buys Armour to defend him too.
Titubo did ſtumble by his too much haſt,
Vacillo ſtagger'd too, they ſtrook ſo faſt.
Laedo was hurt, and's Brother noceo too;
And tueor defends himſelf with much ado.
Tego was cover'd with a gallant Shield,
Yet being beat by verbero, made him yield.
Plango did much lament his grievous chance,
'Cauſe ico ſmote him with his direful Lance.
Ruo did ruſh into that furious Fight,
Which did, they ſay, poor terreo much affright.
Sarcio did patch his Armour, 'twas ſo old;
And demo took't away, he was ſo bold.
Languio did languiſh 'cauſe his wounds were deep;
And ſerpo from the Battle ſoon did creep.
Bold voveo vow'd that he'd have Armour on;
Which obliviſcor forgot, till all was done.
Palleo lookt very pale, and wou'd a fled; but
Undaunted teneo ſoundly held him to't.
Findo did cleave his Enemies ſcull that day;
Yet medeor made a ſhift to heal't, they ſay.
Formido did dread to come into the Fight,
And culpo blam'd him for't, they ſay, that night.
Voco did call on vado to go on;
Poor labo faints, when jaceo caſt him down:
But recupero recover'd incontinent;
For ſpero gave him hope, being almoſt ſpent.
As I live, ſays vivo, ſtatuo did appoint
Me Enſigne, in regard I firſt did win't.
Noſco ſaid, he knew it; mentior ſwore he ly'd;
Then acuo whets his ſword that hung by's ſide.
Peace, peace, ſays taceo; ſudo ſweat for fear,
And ſurgo roſe and fled into the rear.
Singultio then began to ſob, they ſay,
Becauſe provoco challeng'd him that day.
Cubo fell down, and capio did him take
Up agen, when he could hardly ſpeak.
Frendeo then did gnaſh with's teeth ſo hard,
It drove away poor pello from the Guard.
Come, ſays invenio, I do clearly find
Maneo did well to tarry ſtill behind:
For incendo here has ſet us all on fire;
And I'll begin, ſays inchoo to retire.
Oro prays heartily that it may ſucceed;
Says indico, I'll ſhew you a way with ſpeed.
Conſulo's counſel they did not diſpiſe;
Condono ſaid, he'd pardon his Enemies.
Faſcino thought he was bewitcht he ſwore;
But patio ſaid, that he had ſuffered more
Than all. Impertio did impart to 'em all;
And I command, ſays mando, great and ſmall.
Obedio vow'd that he'd the firſt obey,
And Moneo did admoniſh the ſame way.
Says Narro, I will tell it round the field;
Nolo, though unwilling, yet at laſt doth yield.
And volo was as willing, I do proteſt;
But malo was more willing than all the reſt.
I have a mind, ſays habeo, for to joyn
With all this Crew. Says rego, And I'll reſigne
My Rule. Sto was at a ſtand, and gaz'd about;
And certo ſtriv'd to draw this Rabble-rout
To ſome Agreement. At laſt loquor's Speech
Did by degrees ſoder up the Breach.
Tho praedico did preach before in vain,
And ſuadeo did perſwade with might and main,
And fungo did diſcharge his duty right,
And he with unio caus'd them all unite,
And dico ſaid, 'Twas beſt from War to ceaſe,
And ſancio he eſtabliſh did a Peace,
And ſolvo paid 'em for their ſervice done,
And jurgo chid thoſe from fight did run,
Finio the Battle ends: yet moſt do ſay,
Though jacto brag'd, yet vinco won the day.
Numero did number all then were ſlain,
And opto wiſht't might nere be ſo again.
Parco was very glad that he was ſpar'd;
And partio did divide the ſpoil was ſhar'd.
Iraſcor was angry, and began to fret,
'Cauſe adſum was not preſent when they met.
I was, ſays eram, and am glad to ſee
A Reconciliation ſo like to be.
Then ſalto danc'd, and ludo 'gan to play
On's Inſtrument for joy of that happy day.
We had better, ſays lavo, waſh our Throats than cut 'em:
And tundo knockt for Liquor; which was brought 'm.
Yet turgeo and tumeo 'gan to ſwell,
'Cauſe placeor was not pleaſed very well.
Says veto, Jove forbid that we agen
Should fight: To which they all did cry, Amen.
The Concords.
THe Interjections living ſo near the Concords,
Were, as I'm told, the onely ſtrong Cords
To tye 'em up from War; came in I find
In ſome vehement paſſion of the mind,
And affection alſo: and before they went,
Brought in the three Concords to that intent.
The firſt was Nominative caſe and Verb,
Who ſtriv'd their unbridled paſſions to curb,
By ſaying, Yet we ne'r did diſagree,
But liv'd in love, concord, and harmonie
In affections; and ſo I hope will ye:
For we in Caſe Number and Perſon ſtill agree.
Then the Subſtantive, who was ſubſtantial,
Came with's Adjective at the very firſt call,
Who ſaid, that in Caſe Gender and Number they
Did never diſagree, nor diſobey
Their Superiours, and were each a ſure friend,
As amicus certus can tell, to the end,
In any doubtful matter whatſoere,
Witneſs in re incerta cernitur.
So we hope in this brangling matter,
To bring't ſo to paſs all Feuds may ſcatter
Like the duſt before the wind. And then
Came in the Relative with's Antecedent, when
The other two were endeavouring to compoſe
That great difference where ev'ry one were foes.
The Relative ſaid, I've Relations there:
And I, ſays the Antecedent, ſhou'd a come here
Before the Relative; but I'm glad he's there.
Then 'twas related to the Relative, how
It did begin. Says the Antecedent, Now
We will endeavour to make 'em all agree,
And adde one Concord more to th'other three.
Then they both being together,
Did very ſeriouſly ask 'em whether
They'd adde another Concord to th' three before:
If ſo, then you muſt never quarrel more.
To which they did concord, cum tota mente,
With a large Huzza, Nemini Contradicente.
The Conjunctions.
WHen the Adverbs Quarrel began to ceaſe,
The Conjunctions ſtriv'd to make a Peace,
With the help of the Prepoſitions,
And their Neighbours the Interjections.
Which being done, the Conjunctions they
Striv'd to prevent ſuch another day:
And by a Conjunction did all agree
For the future to live in amitie.
And ſo did joyn ſome ſentences and words
Together, and what their Store-houſe affords,
To give ſome reaſon that they ought no more
To quarrel as others did heretofore.
Says et, And I will joyn w'ye in the ſame.
Says quae, And I; or elſe I were to blame.
Says quoque alſo, I'll ſtick by ye ſtill.
Says ac and atque, And alſo 'twas their will.
Says nec, Neither I nor my Brother neque;
We'll break our necks ere we'll forſake ye.
And theſe coupled themſelves then for that end,
That they might ſtill be each others friend.
Though the Disjunctives did at firſt disjoyn
From the laſt, yet now to quietneſs incline.
And aut, to excuſe himſelf, ſaid, 'Twas either
Ve, vel, ſeu, ſive, or he knew not whether
That did disjoyn 'em; but now all do deſire
To ſtick cloſe unt'ye to quench the fire.
But then the Diſcretives, that were diſcreeter
Than the other, did ſay, It was meeter
For all to be friends. Says quidem Truly
I've often known Disjunctives much unruly.
But ſed and autem, vero, at, and aſt,
Thought themſelves the Buts, they'd ſhoot at laſt.
The Cauſals then reſolv'd next to ſpeak,
And thought they'd cauſe enough their mind to break:
For ſays nam, namque, enim, and etenim,
That ſome o'th' Adverbs then did threaten 'em;
But know not what for. Says quia, 'Twas becauſe
(And ſo ſaid quoniam) ſome had broke the Laws.
Says ut, That may be: And quod ſaid That was ſo.
Says quum, Sith that I no Tony am;
And ſo ſaid quando, that was ſet for quoniam.
Says the Conditionals, On this condition
You'll never more have any diviſion;
We'll ſpeak for ye. Says ſi, If I do
Believe their ifs and ands agen, let me rue
It. Says ſin, But if they ſhould firſt begin,
Then at their door I'm ſure does lie the ſin.
Says modo, So that they'll but let us alone;
And ſo ſaid dum, and dummodo, and every one,
We'll never differ more. Says dum, They told me then,
That I ſhould marry Dido, Carthage Queen;
But 'twas by the very conſent of ſome
O'th' Gerunds. To make it up, di, do, dum.
The Exceptives then ſome Exceptions made,
As ni, and niſi, being both of one Trade,
Said, Except they leave off thus to abuſe us,
We can't endure long to be us'd thus.
Then ſays alioquin, and praeterquam,
Except that they do this, we mean to firk 'um.
Then ſays quin, But I neither except that,
Or any thing that's otherwiſe, that's flat.
The Interogatives then were took to task,
And were reſolv'd ſome Queſtions to ask.
And firſt, ſays ne, an, utrum, whether
You do intend to ſpeak altogether,
Or ſingly? Nay, ſays necne, Whether or no:
And ſo ſays anne: Says nonne, Is't not ſo?
The Illatives then were for bringing in
Some novel Cuſtom, that had long been
Out of uſe. Says ergo, Therefore: ideo,
Igitur, itaque, and proin, bid ye, ho,
To bring in nothing that was againſt Law.
Says quare, Wherefore ſhould they do't? thy're raw
That do deſire it. Then the Adverſatives,
Who had been very adverſe all their lives,
And were againſt every thing that's good,
Now did no more deſire to deal in blood:
For ſays etſi, quanquam, quamvis, and licet,
Although we hated Peace, yet now we prize it.
And before 'em all, ſays eſto, Be it ſo:
And ſo ſhall all the reſt ſay 'fore we go.
The Redditives then ſaid, That they'd reſtore
Whatere they had unjuſtly gotten; nay, more
To be quiet. Says attamen and tamen,
Notwithſtanding that many does blame men
For their wickedneſs: Yet the Electives ſay,
With quam, How glad are we to ſee this day!
The Diminutives alſo did confeſs,
That they endeavour'd to make all things leſs
Than they were, thereby to have quietneſs.
Says ſaltem at leaſt, and ſo ſays honeſt vel,
They were glad to ſee all things now ſo well.
The Prepoſitions.
A Prepoſition moſt commonly is ſet
Before other parts i'th' Grammar-Alphabet.
Then why the Adverbs and Conjunctions ſhould be
Set before it, a wonder is to me:
For he in Appoſition can do much,
And in Oppoſition too has a touch.
For he to's Father, if he pleaſe, can ſay,
Ad Patrem; and when he has done, go his way.
Likewiſe in oppoſition is very bold
With the reſt of's Brethren, as I've been told.
And then for compoſition, none can be
So great an Artiſt in that Trade as he,
As indoctus, though unlearn'd, ſaid to me.
'Twas he that great compoſition made
To th' Adverbs, when they that great quarrel had;
And privately was the cauſe, they ſay,
That the Verbs themſelves fought no more that day:
And call'd to all of them that were his Crew,
That they in that thing ſhould joyn with him too.
And firſt, ſays ad, I'll adde to any thing
Which may indeed peace and quietneſs bring.
And I will be, ſays apud, at the ſame;
And they that do it not, are much to blame.
Then were adverſus, and's Brother adverſum,
Againſt fighting too: but ſaid, There were ſome
That delighted in't, and they could rehearſe 'um.
Yes, ſays cis and citra on this ſide the ſtreet,
Many often about it together did meet.
Yes, ſays trans, on the further ſide too;
But they at my requeſt, themſelves withdrew.
Then ſays circa, circiter, and circum,
About that time we were us'd to jerk 'um
For it. I was, ſays contra, on t'other part,
And did contrary them in all their Art.
As I went, ſays erga, towards 'em too,
I forc'd 'em to peace, do all they could do.
And verſus towards 'em went, as I have heard,
And took the untoward and pluck'd 'em by the beard.
I was, ſays extra, without when 'twas done:
And I, ſays intra, within when 'twas begun.
I was juſt then, ſays inter, between ye both,
And was much troubled to ſee 'em all in wrath.
And I was then, ſays infra, beneath ye all,
Yet not ſo far as to be out of call.
I was, ſays pone, behind; ye cou'd not ſee
Me at all: I ſtood behind a Tree.
And I was alſo, ſays prope, nigh to,
Yet was ſeeing for a place to flie to.
But I was, ſays ſupra, above ye all,
I mean, i'th' Room which is above the Hall.
And I was, ſays ultra, beyond the reſt,
To ſleep in a whole skin I thought it beſt.
And I, ſays per, by too; but through my deſire
For peace, did endeavour to quench the fire.
I was then, ſays ſecus, by or nigh to,
But I'll aſſure ye had no mind to die too.
Says juxta, And beſides I was nigh to, and
Ob, For ſome reaſons, which you'll underſtand.
I had it, ſays penes, in my power either
To ſet 'em by the Ears together,
Or to make peace; truth is, I car'd not whether.
Says praeter, Beſides, or except I had been there,
Great miſchief wou'd a been done, I dare ſwear:
For I being praetor, that's Lord-Mayor, you know,
Kept 'em in aw, and brought 'em all to my bow.
Laſt, ſays ſecundum, According to what you've ſaid,
Your will with me ſhall always be obey'd.
Then the Propoſitions broke up their Court,
And all to their own Stations did reſort.
The Interjections.
AN Interjection is a part, I find,
Which concerns a ſudden paſſion o'th' mind:
But 'tis under an imperfect voice, I hear,
(That is to ſay, within their proper Sphere.)
Some are ſo merry, they're to mirth inclin'd:
Says evax, vah, hey brave! We'll not be confin'd:
Can they want any thing that are merry?
Come, Boy, fill us a luſty Cup of Sherry.
Some are with ſorrow attended, ſtill they ſay,
As heu, Alas! and ſays hui, Welladay!
Some are poſſeſt with dread; ſays atat, Out alas,
What ſhall we do, being brought to this paſs?
Some are of marvelling too; which argues change:
And all do cry ſtill with papae, O ſtrange!
Some are of ſhunning, and all back will run,
And boldly ſay with
〈◊〉
avant, Be gone.
And of pratling
〈…〉
ſays euge, Well done.
And ſome of
〈…〉
'
•
is very true,
Who all do cry
〈…〉
hoop, whoo!
And ſo
•…
〈…〉
and oft cry Foh;
And with
〈…〉
proh, cry Oh:
As ô preceptor
•…
〈…〉
•
ras?
O, Maſter, why
〈…〉
me? Alas, alas!
And proh
〈…〉
Fidem!
O the Faith o
•
〈…〉
to guide 'em!
And ſome
〈…〉
delight, I ſee;
And all ſay lik
•
〈…〉
vae, Wo t'ye.
And all the
〈…〉
therein,
Saying, Woe
〈…〉
that ſhall quarrel agen,
And wiſh they may go all down quick to th' Pit:
Then ſays all the reſt. Amen, So be it.
The Gerunds.
THere be alſo belonging to th' Infinitive Mood
Of Verbs, certain Voices (to be underſtood)
Call'd Gerunds, having all their endings in
Di, do, dum; and ſo of long time have bin:
As amandi, of loving. 'Tis very true,
A man die of loving, 'tis nothing new.
Amando, in loving, is brought to's end.
I ſaw a man do much in that to's friend.
Amandum, to love; that's more than all the reſt.
When a man is dumb, how can's mind be expreſt?
And as di, do, dum, all their endings are,
And when they do die, they're dumb, I'll ſwear:
For after death, there's few ſpeak any where,
As I've been told by ſome o'th' Neighbours there.
For thoſe di do endings bring 'em to their ends;
And therefore enemies to 'em, and not friends.
And when they do die, as being Gerunds,
Then Mr. Death does ſend 'em of his Errands.
The Supines.
THere do alſo belong unto Verbs, two
Supines; and that they may have their due,
One ending in um, which is call'd the firſt,
But the other in u, which is much the worſt.
The firſt is of the Active Regiment,
And clearly to love and loving is bent:
And where-ever he goes, ſays eo amatum,
I go to love, and not to cheat 'um.
But that in u is rugged, harſh, ſevere,
And very hard to be loved any where,
As difficilis amatu told us there.
They both are deſcended from one Su Pine,
Who was their Mother, and born under th'Line.
And likewiſe ſhe her ſelf came from the Loins
Of him that was the Prince o'th' Iſle of Pines.
They're both of different temper, yet Brothers
As if they'd been deſcended from two Mothers.
The Conjugations.
THe Verbs have onely four Conjugations;
Which are known in this manner, in all Nations:
And they are Feminines all, as I hear;
And by that time you know it, you'll ſay 'tis clear.
Firſt, by their names, as amare, amaris;
That is, one Mrs. Mary was Lady Mayoreſs.
And indeed they love well three of the four,
But the other they hate for evermore.
And the reaſon why they love the firſt, ſecond, & fourth,
Is, becauſe they think 'em of very much worth;
Becauſe they're pronounc'd long in the middle
Syllable in the next line: and let the third go fiddle:
For he in the middle is found to be but ſhort,
And ſo by conſequence makes them no ſport.
And being Conjugations, they are wedded
To the other three, but will ne'r be bedded
To the third; and I certainly know this,
As long as his name is legere, legeris.
Thus you've heard the meaning of all the four
Conjugations; what need I ſay any more?
The Perſons.
THere are among the Verbs, Perſons alſo,
And very great Perſons too, you muſt know.
Their Numbers are great too, nay more than one:
For there's two numbers of 'em which are known.
And ſeeing the numbers of 'em are ſo great,
We'll appoint numero them to repeat:
Of which perſons there is but onely three
That are ſingular men; which I'll make known t'ye.
That's the moſt Princely Impero, Mando,
And Jubeo; which command as much as men can do.
Other three there are plurally addicted,
And are for more than one naturally affected;
Which is the cauſe that they do never marry,
But Miſſes numberleſs 'bout with 'em carry.
The Servants to the firſt, are ego, tu, ille;
Which is as much as to ſay, I, thou, he,
Will domineer over all the Country.
And the Servants o'th' laſt are in number the ſame,
But not o'th' ſame number, yet as much fame;
And they are call'd nos, vos, illi, they ſay;
That is to be interpreted, we, ye, they,
We'll all be drunk as often as we may.
Then ego amo, I love; tu amas, thou loveſt;
Ille amat, he loveth: Now which loves beſt?
The other which is called nos amamus,
We love; for which I hope you won't blame us.
Vos amatis, ye love; why ſhou'd ye not?
Illi amant, they love; Love's all their lot.
It had been well if all the Verbs had been ſo,
Then we ſhou'd have had no fighting you know.
Thus have you heard the Perſons and Numbers too:
So that I think I've nothing more to do.
The Pronouns courting a Miſtriſs.
A Pronoun is a fellow much like to a Noun,
And thinks himſelf the braveſt man in Town;
And ſtill in Poetry will be verſing,
But's chief buſineſs is ſhewing and rehearſing.
A very pretty, witty, and buxom Maid
They'd lately got among 'em, as 'tis ſaid:
And every one did think himſelf better
Than the reſt; and ſo did ſtrive to get her.
Says ego, I am chief of all the reſt,
And therefore think I do deſerve her beſt.
Says tu, Thou have her! what, 'cauſe y'are Foreman
O'th' Jury? Yet ſhe knows y'are but a poor man.
But here's one call'd ſui, of himſelf can ſay
In's own behalf, more than any of they.
Says ille, He to my knowledge cannot break
His mind: for I ne'r yet heard him ſpeak.
But here's one Mr. ipſe, the man will be,
Becauſe ſh'as long known him, ipſe, he.
Though ipſe be the very man you ſpeak of,
Yet I ſay iſte the match will break off,
'Cauſe he's an Hermaphrodite, both he and ſhe,
So not fit for that Ladies companie.
Says hic, Though iſte this and that do ſay,
Yet I hic, this man, will have her away.
How, ſays iſte, is that the man muſt do't?
There's one Mr. meus will hold him to't:
For ſhe is, ſays meus, mine; therefore I,
Before I'll loſe her, am reſolv'd to die.
Then ſays tuus, Thine ſhe ſhall be for me;
For I'm reſolv'd not to fight for any ſhe.
Says noſter, Ours ſhe is, and ours ſhall be:
She is, ſays veſter, yours, if you and I agree:
For you know that whatſoever is yours,
If I participate therein, 'tis ours.
And then began too Monſieur noſtras,
Who in his Country-Language was boiſtrous
To get her from the two laſt, ſaying, She is
Of our Country. Says veſtras, And ſo 'tis:
For your Country is our Country, and ſo
Our Country is your Country all do know,
And ſo belongs unto us both; let's go
And take her. Says cujas that was lurking by,
You both lay claim to her as yours; but I
Lay claim to her, not onely as of my
Country, but of my Sect too, certainly.
So took her from them all, ſaying, Know,
Who dares reſiſt, is my perpetual foe;
And they for fear, it ſeems, did let her go.
Then up the Court roſe, and did march in May
Unto their own homes, which is much, you'll ſay.
The Participles.
A Participle doth participate
With Noun and Verb in all degrees and ſtate:
With the Noun, in Gender, Caſe, Declenſion;
With the Verb, in Tenſe and Signification.
And yet to make the wonder the bigger,
Takes part with both in number and figure.
There are of Participles but four kinds,
Which ſcarce do know one anothers minds:
For they never are together at one time;
Which to offer to do, wou'd be a Crime.
The Preſent, Preter, Future in rus and dus:
How, two Futures! that's prepoſterous.
O, Sir, 'tis moſt certain; and I ſay yes:
For is not the next year future to this?
And the third year alſo future to that?
So now you ſee there's two futures, that's flat.
The preſent hath two ends to lodge at, ans
And ens; and the Landlord to th' firſt is amans
Loving: for we know that a mans loving is
The cauſe of his great ſorrow or bliſs.
And as before-ſaid, the ſecond is call'd ens,
Whoſe Maſters name is Monſieur docens:
Who is teaching of 'em all perpetually;
But thoſe that are not preſent, by and by:
But chiefly the preſent time is his aim,
And every day will be to him the ſame.
The ſecond is praeter, who likewiſe has three ends
In Engliſh, as d, t, n, who are his friends;
As loved, taught, ſlain. He has alſo
Three ends of Latin too, which we alſo know,
As tus, ſus, xus; as amatus, viſus, nexus;
Who when we are conſtruing, does always vex us.
And another dull dead word, in uus,
Which is Mr. Morio
•
's Son, mortuus:
He hates the preſent Tenſe; for he's for nought
But that which is paſt, which he has dearly bought
By vindicating that which he will ne'r ſee,
And ſo to himſelf is a great Enemie.
But that in rus, which is a Country-man,
Has an active voice (though looking wan)
By being about to love Amaturus Daughter;
That is, if not now, he'll do't hereafter.
But that in dus doth ſuffer very much more
Than all the other three that were before:
For he ſcorns to love, being often moved
To it; but with amandus, to be beloved:
For a man does love to be belov'd ſometimes;
That is, when young Ladies are in their primes.
And as they were all to Nouns and Verbs alli'd,
So in their diſtinct ſeaſons, were to them a Guide.
They all were glad the Verbs a Peace had made;
For when they heard on't firſt, were all afraid:
And to the Concords for that agreement
Which they had made, they in their ſeaſons went
To give 'em thanks; and then their Healths did tipple:
Which was then done by every Participle.
POEMS and SONGS.
A Mock-Song to Beauty.
1.
MY Love is a pretty Laſs
As any's in all the Town;
Her Face doth ſhine like Braſs,
And her Skin of a Tawny-brown.
2.
Her Hair's of a lovely red,
With Horſegirt-Ribbands tied,
And hangs about her head
Like Daglocks beautified.
3.
Her Forehead is low and rough,
Juſt like a pleated Gown;
Her Ears are large and tough,
And always are hanging down.
4.
Her Eyes are ſunk full low
Into her pretty head;
From whence a Cream doth flow
That over her face doth ſpread.
5.
The one of her Eyes is large,
The other is very ſmall;
Her Mouth it is like a Barge,
For length and breadth and all.
6.
Her Noſe of a Scarlet hue,
Well ſet with Jems about,
And all do appear in view
To adorn her delicate Snout.
7.
Though her Noſe and Chin did jar,
Yet now they are perfect friends;
And though at diſtance were,
Now touch at both the ends.
8.
Her Teeth they are black and blue,
Her Tongue than the Cows more neat;
Her Lips of a ſilver hue,
And thatcht with Hair compleat.
9.
Her Neck it is thick and ſhort,
Juſt like our brindled Cow;
And when ſhe ſings for ſport,
She grunts like our old Sow.
10.
Her Shoulders and Arms are ſtrong,
And both of a luſty growth;
To which her Hands do belong,
That are Shoulders of Mutton both.
11.
Her Back it is high and plump,
That ſome have her Credit defil'd,
By ſaying, that above her Rump
She always did ſeem with Child.
12.
There's never a Girl in Town
Of her Breaſts can make ſuch brags;
For they ſtill are dangling down
Like half-fill'd Pudding-bags.
13.
Of her Hanches ſhe often boaſts,
Becauſe they are very fair;
Her Thighs are two Windmil-poſts,
So they'd need for the weight they bear.
14.
Her Legs are lovely and great,
Which doth her Credit maintain;
And therefore muſt needs be neat,
Being born in Crooked-lane.
15.
And now for her pretty Feet,
They can her Arms diſplay;
But to ſee how her Heels do meet,
Now her Toes are worn away.
16.
Having heard the parts of my Dame,
I now do conclude my Droll;
And having no Toes, her name
Is call'd Stump-footed Moll.
In praiſe of the Taylors trade.
THe Taylors Trade is antient, all we know;
For in the firſt of times they learnt to ſow,
And made them Breeches then, and Aprons too:
But was not worth a fig, to what 'tis now.
Threadneedle-ſtreet likewiſe to all is known
To be the antient'ſt Street in London-Town.
The Croſs-leg'd Signe was there the firſt ſet up,
And likewiſe there was firſt a Taylors ſhop.
Their Arms are antient too, and well them fits;
Which is three Rampant Lice and a Cluſter of Nits:
Which Coat of Arms, with ſomething elſe, hath made
More Gentlemen of that, than any Trade.
And now I do believe you'd know the cauſe;
Have patience, and I'll tell you how it was:
An antient Gentleman that was decay'd,
(Who once had been a rich and ruffling Blade)
Brought's Doublet to mend to a Taylors houſe,
On which were creeping many a luſty Louſe;
But one more large and rampant than the reſt,
Which made the Taylor think he was the beſt
And chief of all that ſharp Back-biting Crew;
Which he took up, and cut him juſt in two
With his new Shears, and gave his Wife one half
To eat, and th'other half did eat himſelf.
And from that time did verily think that he
Was a Gentleman, and of antiquitie,
Becauſe that Louſe he knew had ſuckt before
Of the antient Gentlemans blood ſuch ſtore.
And's Wife likewiſe did verily think ſhe was
A Gentlewoman too for that very cauſe:
And ſo did write themſelves, do all we cou'd,
Becauſe they eat ſo much o'th' gentile bloud.
Nay, his man did ſay he was half a Gentleman,
Having lickt the Shears that cut the Louſe in twain.
Then he drank hard, which you know doth make us
Gentlemen all that are friends to Bacchus:
And when others would leave half i'th' Cup,
Yet he would always wind his Bottoms up.
Nay, thoſe which drank not, he would ſay were dull,
And tell 'em ſtill, 'twas but a Thimble-full,
He could not drink to mend his Bloud, I'm ſure;
You know his Bloud was good enough before.
When other Gentlemen would ſay they were
Gentlemen of ſuch and ſuch a Shire,
Yet he excels them all in ſpight of their Ears;
Theirs came from one, his from a pair of Shears.
And whereas other men did call the Court
Behind their houſe, a Backſide; he, in ſport,
Commands them all to call't a Yard: for he knew
His Wife would be well-pleas'd with that name too:
And pleaſe her he muſt in all his diſcourſe,
Becauſe the grey Mare was known the better Horſe.
And likewiſe knew it did belong to's Trade;
Without a Yard, no meaſure could be made.
Some ſay, by Surgery too he was grown rich:
For never man did better cure a Stitch.
Your Lawyers likewiſe much a Taylor praiſe,
Saying, 'tis an excellent Trade now-a-days;
Nay, beſt for a Lawyer in all the Land,
'Cauſe he has ſtill ſo many Suits in hand.
One askt him why he marri'd a Northern woman?
He told him, in their Trade 'twas very common,
Becauſe their Needle ſtill to th' North doth tend;
And as their Needle guides, ſo they muſt bend.
He hath a Gooſe too, that flutters ſtill ſo high,
And is ſo proud, that it preſſes all't comes nigh:
And 'tis a Gooſe that ne'r had more than one
Wing at all (when that's off, he'll have none.)
Other Geeſe do ſwim, but theſe, Pox rot 'um,
Do ſtill i'th' water ſink down to th' bottom.
Beſides his Yard, he hath another Meaſure
Which he doth clip and alter at his pleaſure.
The Barbers Trade is not ſo gentile as it,
Becauſe they ſtand, but Taylors always ſit
Still at their work: which was the cauſe, I think,
A fellow ſaid (when he was got in drink)
That a Taylors feet ſtunk the worſt of any
Trade whatſoever; (although there be many)
And reaſons gave us why they were ſo ſtrong,
Becauſe they're under his breech all day long.
A Taylor ſent the other day (I know him)
Unto a man for ten pounds he did owe him.
What makes thy Maſter ſend thus every day?
I hope he does not think I'm running away?
No, Sir, though you are not, I'll tell you true,
Yet he muſt do't within a day or two.
A Taylor once was bid to make a Gown;
And who d'ye think 'twas for? 'twas for the Moon:
And as he tri'd it ſtill (as all men ſay)
It was too big or little every day.
The Taylor then was not in fault, you ſee;
But 'twas indeed the Moon's inconſtancie.
How can't be otherways, being ſtuft with Lunacie,
And commonly light-headed uſed to be?
There is a Proverb which has been of old,
And many men have likewiſe been ſo bold,
To the diſcredit of the Taylors Trade,
Nine Taylors goes to make up a man, they ſaid.
But for their credit I'll unriddle it t'ye:
A Draper once fell into povertie,
Nine Taylors joyn'd their Purſes together then,
To ſet him up, and make him a man agen:
Which made him vow, nay bound it with ſome Oaths,
That none but Taylors hereafter ſhould make his Cloths.
The POSTSCRIPT.
Thus have you heard the Taylor o're and o're,
And more I think than ere you heard before;
And when he works, doth ſtill fit on's breech,
But yet to all he ſtill went thorow ſtitch.
And though ſome Taylors take delight in cupping,
Yet Breadſtreet is their beſt place to ſet up in.
A SONG,
To the Tune of Well, well, 'tis true, That I'm fallen in love, and 'tis with you.
1.
Go, go, you Slut,
That day and night art cramming of thy Gut
This ſad and pinching year:
How can this mean Eſtate of mine
Supply that Gulphlike Paunch of thine,
Now every thing's ſo dear?
Remember once, you Jade, at Iſlington
You eat, beſides of Bread and Cheeſe, a dozen Cakes alone
2.
Once we did go
Abroad into the Fields to walk, you know;
And then, forſooth, you cri'd,
You were ſo faint for want of Meat,
And muſt have ſomething then to eat,
Or elſe you ſhould have di'd.
Yet thou didſt eat, when we came out a door,
A Pidgeon-pye the cruſt and all, but half an hour before.
3.
Nay, more, you Swine:
When I invited once ſome Friends of mine,
You preſently did fall
Upon the Meat was on the Spit,
And ere that we could eat a bit,
Thou hadſt devour'd it all.
Retrench this gormandizing trade, you Whore,
Or elſe I vow by mighty Jove, I'll turn thee out a door.
A Song on a Lady and her Chamber-Maid.
1.
A Chamber-Maid was got with Child;
For which her Lady did call her Whore,
And ſaid that ſh'ad her houſe defil'd,
And vow'd ſhe'd turn her out a door.
Who got the Child, ſays ſhe, you Jade?
Your Husband, and pleaſe you, Madam.
Why where, you Whore? Forſooth, ſhe ſaid,
In the Trucklebed a Hadham.
2.
Why where was I? I'll know the truth:
Come tell me, or elſe I'll make ye.
In the high bed faſt aſleep, forſooth,
And I was afraid to wake ye.
Why did you not cry out, you Drab,
When firſt you ſaw he begun it?
Truly, forſooth, I was never a Blab
Of my Tongue: Wou'd you a done it?
3.
And beſides, forſooth, you know
That I your humour know too well,
That if you're ſuddenly wakt, you'll throw
And tear like to a Fiend of Hell.
Nay, you'll cry out with loud Alarms,
And fling what your fingers touches,
That I'd rather be in my Maſters Arms,
Than ever to come in your Clutches.
4.
Why did you not then ſooner go,
You errant Quean, before 'twas known?
Truly, Madam, 'tis even ſo,
Becauſe that you had none a your own.
And indeed, Madam, the truth to tell,
I think I well did plot it,
Imagining you would uſe it well
For his dear ſake that got it.
A Song called the Haſty Wedding.
The Tune is the Gunfleet.
1.
I'm in love, ſays Noll: Indeed, ſays Doll!
But prethee ſay with who?
I fear, ſays he: Come ſpeak, ſays ſhe:
Why then it is with you.
You jeſt, ſays Doll! Good faith, ſays Noll,
You do me wrong, my Dolly.
But men, ſays ſhe, to flattery be
Too much addicted, Nolly.
2.
I vow, ſays Noll, I love thee, Doll:
But pray, Sir, tell me where?
At my heart, ſays he: At your heart, ſays ſhe!
And do you love me there?
'Tis true, ſays Noll: But you, ſays Doll,
Do love another better.
Who is't, ſays he? Why Nan, ſays ſhe;
You t'other day did treat her.
3.
Fie, fie, ſays Noll! Why, why, ſays Doll?
Why Nan did come to me,
And pray'd me write that very night
To her Sweet-heart Humfrey.
What then, ſays Doll? Why then, ſays Noll,
I gave her a pint of Wine, Doll.
What elſe, ſays ſhe? Why Cakes, ſays he,
And yet no Miſs of mine, Doll.
4.
But yet, ſays Doll, my Father, Noll,
Does ſay y'are poor of late.
How! poor, ſays he! Yes, poor, ſays ſhe,
And muſt not be my Mate.
I have, ſays Noll: What haſt, ſays Doll?
Why I have a Houſe and Land, Doll.
Where is't, ſays ſhe? Why 'tis, ſays he,
At the lower end o'th' Strand, Doll.
5.
What Goods, ſays Doll? All ſorts, ſays Noll,
That in a houſe is common.
Indeed, ſays ſhe! And fit, ſays he,
For any honeſt woman.
How, how, ſays Doll! Good faith, ſays Noll,
'Tis true; and all are my own:
And a Feather-bed, with Curtains red,
For thee and I to lie on.
6.
Then 'tis, ſays Doll, a Match, my Noll,
Let Father and Mother chide.
Is't done, ſays he? 'Tis done, ſays ſhe;
And I will be thy Bride.
Let's kiſs, ſays Noll: Content, ſays Doll;
And there's another for ye.
When wed we, ſays he? To morrow, ſays ſhe.
We will no longer tarric.
7.
Come then, ſays Noll, we'll go, my Doll,
And ſee the houſe before;
And then, ſays he: What then, ſays ſhe?
Thou't find I am not poor.
Agreed, ſays Doll; and—And when, ſays Noll,
To morrow we are wedded,
Thy Parents ſhall, and Kindred all,
Then come and ſee us bedded.
Iter Orientale: or, a Voyage from
London to
Chipping-Unger in
Eſſex; performed by ſome Gentlemen in
Auguſt 1674.
HEnceforth I never more will hunger
To ride again to Chipping-Ʋnger
In Eſſex County, as I hear,
And month of Auguſt every year.
Not but we had a gallant Feaſt,
And Meat moſt delicately dreſt,
As Turky, Pig, Gooſe; and the chief
Was an excellent piece of Beef,
So large, it made the Spit to bend,
And a yard diſtance from either end;
And when't came up, there were two able
Men to bring it to the Table:
With Pullets, Capons, and on my word,
All that time o'th' year cou'd afford.
And then we did excel in Drink
Of ſeveral ſorts. Stay, let me think.
And firſt we had good humming Beer,
The beſt, I think, in all the Shire:
And ſtore of Nappy Ale likewiſe,
Which quickly did our brains ſurprize:
But then of Wine we had ſuch ſtore,
I thought one houſe could hold no more.
The Tables fill'd with Bottles were,
We ſcarce cou'd ſet Tobacco there;
That one to ask was then ſo bold,
Whether the Bottles were to be ſold?
And yet to make up more variety,
Of Friends there was a brave ſociety,
So truly merry and ſo free,
I was ne'r in better Companie.
Handſome, witty, and good humour too;
Faith, and that's much in ſo great a Crew,
That every thing there ſpoke or done,
Was Object of Mirth to every one:
And all reſolv'd there to be merry;
But alas, poor Captain, he was weary,
And gauled was ſo much, that he
Cou'd find no part of's Rump was free.
This being ſo, you'll ask me then,
Why I'll no more to
Ʋnger agen:
Which to unriddle, I will not fail;
But now comes out a doleful Tale
That ever yet was heard before,
His Buttocks being ſo vilely tore.
The Horſe whereon he then did ride,
Wore Whalebone-Bodies on either ſide:
For the Spur had made the Ribs appear,
As if you had Glaſs-windows there.
And then he had ſo ſweet a trot,
By that time I two miles had got,
As if it were for the very nonce:
For it diſlocated all my bones.
And then his trotting was ſo high,
He'd mount me up; then by and by
Wou'd let me down with ſuch a jolt,
I had much ado to keep my holt.
He once did lift me up ſo high;
(But here you'll think I tell a lye)
Far be't from me; I'm not ſo given:
For I heard the Angels ſing in Heaven.
You may think I hyperbolize,
But I hope you do not think 'em lyes:
For at that time I did beſtraddle
Such a faſhion'd uncouth Saddle:
For ſuch a one it chanc'd to be,
From which, good Lord, deliver me
From ſuch another: For allagree
'Twas made of Deal-boards certainlie;
But ſome a better name did give it,
Saying, 'twas Wainſcot; you may believe it:
And I began to think ſo too.
It was ſo hard, I ſwear to you,
I thought't had lain in water or mud
That turns all things to ſtone that's wood:
For I did find a riſing bump
O'th' top, which often hit my Rump;
And went to cut it, but on my life,
It ſoon turn'd the edge of my Knife.
I hope you think, when on't I rid,
A pleaſant Saddle I beſtrid.
In Stirrup-leathers I was bleſt,
'Cauſe they were like to all the reſt:
For they in pieces were ſo plenty,
I think in number almoſt twenty;
They were ſo patcht in knots and bumps,
And other riſings juſt like lumps,
That I proteſt I broke my knuckle
To draw the Leather through the Buckle.
The Buckles and Stirrups were with ruſt
So eat, that all that ſaw 'em, muſt
Seek for a Faith to believe that ere
They were iron, ſo unlike they were.
Yet I believe that I am able
To prove, that the ſtraps o'th' Saddle
Had once been Leather, when I had found
Two or three holes both round and ſound.
And for my Girts, I do proteſt,
I cannot tell whether 'tis beſt
To call 'em ſo: for one I found
Not ſquare, but excellently round;
Which makes me think that it was made
Juſt when the Roundheads drove their trade,
For its antiquity and make.
But for the other, if I may ſpeak
My mind freely, the breadth's about
A quarter and nail, I dare avow't;
By which you ſee they were not brothers,
Being ſo unlike one another.
And for the Bridle, this I'll ſay,
'Twas onely for a Lord-Mayors-day
For an Alderman to ride upon,
If then he cou'd get ſuch a one.
Being thus accommodated, I
Did ride by th' Coach triumphantly,
Unto the credit then of all
My Dames that rode there, both great and ſmall.
But now comes out the ſaddeſt Tale,
Which my poor Rump does ſtill bewail:
For never Rump was ſerved ſo,
When they to
Ʋnger ere did go.
I'd rather to endure a whipping,
Than ride again to
Ʋnger-Chipping:
I'm ſure I ſhou'd have leſſer whales
Than I had then upon my Tail.
And well they may Chipping call it;
For't chipt my Nock, and did ſo maul it
In many Chips and corner'd cuts,
I cou'd not help it for my Guts:
So gaul'd it was in many places,
That I was forc'd make many faces
(Whenſoever I got it dreſt)
And yet no Painter, I proteſt.
Sometimes 'twou'd itch, and then I'd ſcrat;
Then turn a this ſide, and then a that:
Sometimes 'twou'd ſmart, then muſt I
Not ſit at all, but ſtand or lie.
Some ſeeing me lean a one ſide, ſware
That I was whiſpering to the Chair.
Others askt me why I penſive ſate,
Saying, 'twas ſo with me but a late.
Nay, I heard one whiſper through a Gap,
That certainly I had got a Clap.
And when I kneel'd againſt a Chair,
They'd ask me if I were at Prayer.
And when for eaſe I on my Belly lay,
Sure you're aſham'd to ſhew your face, they'd ſay.
And when that I came through a Town
From
Ʋnger, ſays a Country Clown,
Like Crookbackt Richard I did ride,
When I turn'd my Rump up a one ſide.
And at another Town, a fellow ſware
I was like the Bunchbackt Taylor there.
And when to eaſe my Nock I lay
On the Horſe-neck, then they ſay,
(When I was in that pitiful caſe)
Sure that man's a running a Race.
And as through Stratford-Bow I came,
Says one, How d'ye, Sir? are you lame,
Or are you gaul'd, and is it ſore?
Ah, friend, thought I, than all before,
Thou ſpeakeſt trueſt: He bid me pick
From off a Tree an Elder-ſtick,
And put into my Pocket; and ſwore
That at that time 'twou'd gaul no more.
Troth, friend, thought I, I'm o'thy mind:
For I am ſo much gaul'd behind,
There's no place free, it is ſo tore,
How cou'd it then gaul any more?
Thus you may ſee my deſperate caſe
Being ſo, to jeer me to my face.
Then I do every man adviſe
Not to ride as I did, if he be wiſe:
Which to prevent, let him never paddle,
As I did then, on ſuch a Saddle.
Perhaps you'll ask why I did not look
Before I leapt: I ſwear upon a book
I cou'd not help it; the horſe was ſent
(As 'twere to me in complement)
And left him at my Lodging-door,
When all the reſt were gone before:
So Hobſons choice was left to me,
Either this or none, moſt certainlie.
Then every one began to ſay,
They did not pity me that day:
For had I gallopt as I ought,
I had to the Town more Leather brought;
But I, forſooth, muſt often tarry
For my Dog Tango, that was weary.
Sure I think it was good nature
Not to leave a poor dumb Creature
In a ſtrange place: for I'll ſwear
He ne'r did ſpeak as I did hear;
And being dumb, how cou'd he then
Beg relief from Country-men?
For ſome an 'um are like a Hog,
To reſpect him no more than a Dog;
Unleſs that he at Barking had bin
In Eſſex too, with ſome of his Kin,
Who might relieve him for's barkings ſake,
Although poor thing he cou'd not ſpeak:
For Barking was his Dialect; and how
Can Eſſex-men underſtand Baw waw?
So Tango might be ſtarved in
A Country where he ne'r had bin.
His feet were ſurbated, and he ſick;
Which toucht poor Tango to the quick.
Thus have you heard moſt certainly,
The Story of my Dog and I.
I now muſt ſpeak of two Comrades
Which furniſht were with arrant Jades,
As we our ſelf was furniſhed,
Except the Saddle on which I rid.
The young mans horſe came from a Butcher,
Who kickt when he did not touch her.
His horſe was raw, and lean, and tall,
He lookt like Alexander on's Bucephal.
I cannot ſay he loſt much Leather,
Yet brought home leſs than he carri'd thither.
And's Comrade too that with him went
Home, did confeſs his Rump was rent.
Their Rumps were bad, but mine was worſe,
That we all may ſay, God a mercy Horſe.
The POSTSCRIPT.
Thus have you heard our Iter Orientale,
Which to us three was very male;
But I the worſt of all that Jovial Crew:
So iterum, atque iterum, I bid ye adieu.
A new Song.
1.
I Once for a fancy, did love pretty Nancy,
Till Jenny came into the place;
Who when I did ſee, there's no man cou'd be
Ever ſo took with a face.
2.
But when at a Ball I ſaw pretty Mall,
Methoughts ſhe tript it ſo fine,
I felt ſuch a ſmart, that I us'd all my art
By preſents to make her mine.
3.
This laſted a day, until at a Play
I ſaw my beautiful Jone;
Which made me to think I was juſt at the brink
Of marriage with her or none.
4.
This humour did laſt until I did caſt
My eyes on my pretty fine Kate;
My heart was ſo caught, that I verily thought
She ſhould have been my Mate.
5.
But after a while, I ſeeing the ſmile
Of my dear bonny ſweet Betty;
Which made me to ſtart, that I thought in my heart
That none cou'd ere be ſo pretty.
6.
But being a Gueſt at a Wedding-feaſt,
I there ſweet Suſan eſpide;
And truth for to tell, I likt her ſo well,
I thought to a made her my Bride.
7.
But after a day, at a place where I lay,
I chanc'd fair Nelly to ſee;
That I never was ſo in love with a Laſs,
She was ſo airy and free.
8.
But yet for all this, I ſoon left that Miſs,
When I heard ſweet Abigail's voice;
She tril'd it ſo well, I then 'gan to ſmell
That here I ſhould make my choice.
9.
And this did remain for a day or twain,
Till I heard fair Dolly to play
So well on the Lute, I then 'gan my ſute
For marriage with her the next day.
10.
Fair Heſter at laſt had my heart ſo faſt,
I reſolv'd to make her my own;
But a little after I handſomely left her,
For my humour of love was gone.
11.
Yet I never will grieve, for I ſtill do believe
I've a Miſtriſs yet to come;
Or elſe I muſt ſay, I'm in love ev'ry day;
But I cannot tell with whom.
A new SONG.
1.
LEt's ſtrive to improve our Talent of Love,
'Tis that which can give us content;
We'll baniſh thoſe fears that uſher in cares,
And give to our Pleaſures a vent.
2.
And when we begin to be ſtupid within,
We'll march to the Tavern amain:
For a cup of good Sack will ſupply what we lack,
And reſtore us to Pleaſures again.
3.
For Sorrow and Care does but bring in deſpair,
And makes us like Drones to ſit;
But Cupid and Bacchus will every day make us
Maſters of Pleaſure and Wit.
A new SONG.
1.
PRethee, Caelia, tell me why
Thou'ſt been ſo ſtrange of late?
What Object now has took thy eye,
That I am thus ſo ſoon laid by,
As one that's out of date?
2.
Thou knowſt my kindneſs ſtill was ſuch,
As none cou'd ere be more.
And which is now in Gallants much,
I in my promiſe ſtill kept touch,
Which no man did before.
3.
Is it becauſe thou lov'ſt to range
And take thy ſwing about?
If it be ſo, methinks 'tis ſtrange
That any one a friend ſhould change
For one o'th' common Rout.
4.
Or elſe doſt think my Fortune lean,
And cannot entertain
Thee in a handſome Miſs-like mean?
(Though I confeſs 'tis often ſeen)
Faith, Caelia, this is vain.
5.
But if't be Pride, then Caelia, know
I gave thee thy renown,
And made thy Infant-fortunes grow,
When thou were't in eſteem ſo low,
Thy name was ſcarcely known.
6.
Had not my Pen advanc'd thy fame,
and gave it wings to flye,
Thoud'ſt been as one without a name,
And in thy Reputation lame
To every vulgar eye.
7.
Then, Celia, ſince I've made thee great,
I'll take thee down agen,
And make thy Glories ſo retreat,
That all ſhall take thee for a Cheat,
And where's poor Celia then?
8.
Thus art thou brought, by fooliſh pride,
Into this low eſtate;
Hadſt thou been kind, thou hadſt me ti'd
To make thee at the laſt my Bride:
But, Celia, now't's too late.
A new Song:
The Tune is, Mr. Staggins his Minuit which he made for the Ball at Whitehal, 1673.
1.
GOne is my Deareſt, ſhe I ſo admired;
Never was man ſo dejected before:
She ſo much Beauty had, all hearts ſhe fired;
No one cou'd ever be Miſtriſs of more.
But when her charming Eyes
Once let their glances flie,
None cou'd withſtand 'em, but all fell in love.
Nay, ſome did think ſhe was
Clad in that humane dreſs,
And by the Gods ſent down from above.
2.
And though ſo fair ſhe was, never did woman
Wear ſo much modeſty ſtill in her face;
And of ſo great a Wit, that it was common
Still to deliver her words with a grace.
But when her Lute ſhe took,
She on't ſo ſweetly ſtrook,
Never did Mortals ſuch harmony hear;
We thought the Heavenly Quire
All met and fixt in her,
And then did wiſh our ſelves nothing but ear.
3.
Then welcome Sadneſs, and farewel all Pleaſure,
Nothing is left for me now but deſpair;
And of the Gods I beg ſome little leiſure
Onely to ſhed on her Grave a ſad tear;
And there deplore the fate
Of my dear peerleſs Mate.
That after-ages may give her her due,
Alſo I beg to have
This Motto on my Grave,
Never, O never died Lover ſo true.
A new SONG.
The Tune is, The Duke of Lorains March.
1.
ROuſe up, Boys; Eaſe deſtroys
Every martial wight:
Then arm apace, the Foes increaſe,
And all prepar'd to fight.
Tantarara, tantarara,
The Trumpets ſound amain;
Then let's away to win the day,
That every one may honour gain.
2.
It is decreed, Delay does breed
Danger ſtill in War;
Then let us go to meet the Foe,
Before they advance too far.
Dub a dub a dub, Dub a dub a dub;
The Drums a Charge do beat:
Then let us fight from morn till night,
Until we make 'em all retreat.
3.
And all that can, muſt charge i'th' Van,
Until you've broke their Rank;
If'twill not do, then you muſt go
And charge 'em in the Flank.
And then you muſt be ſure, Boys,
To charge 'em in the Rear,
Until they flie; then you muſt cry,
Away they run, they run for fear.
4.
When that is done, and Field is won,
The Plunder is your own;
The Spoils in War, moſt lawful are,
To every man 'tis known.
And then you may with freedom, Boys,
Drink and take your eaſe;
Or with a Miſs to court and kiſs,
As you your fancy mean to pleaſe.
A SONG.
To which, the two laſt Verſes were lately added.
1.
NO ſcornful Beauty ere ſhall boaſt
She made me love in vain;
Thoſe men are fools, who once are croſt,
If ere they love again.
To whine and pine, I never can,
And tell you I muſt die;
It is ſo much beneath a man,
I'll never do't, not I.
2.
Perhaps ſome puling fool may weep,
And court her with a Tear;
And at her footſtool cringe and creep,
And idolize her there.
Such Coxcombs do deſerve to be
Inſlav'd by women ſtill.
My Soul's too great for any ſhe,
To captivate my will.
3.
Would men be rul'd by me, we'd make
Thoſe ſcornful things recant,
And ſhould from us their meaſures take,
What we are pleas'd to grant:
For why ſhould we be ſubject thus
To things ſo much below us?
Preeminence belongs to us,
'Tis they do duty owe us.
A Song call'd, My Miſtriſs is all the Genders.
The Tune, Shackle de Hay.
1.
ANd firſt ſhe's counted Maſculine,
Becauſe ſhe's a Virago,
And born at th' Indies under th' Line,
At the Iſland call'd Tobago;
Where ſhe has deceiv'd full many a man,
That they from her have quiv'ring ran,
As if they had an Ago.
2.
Another call'd her Feminine,
And ſwore ſhe of that Sex is,
'Cauſe in her book they'd interline,
They never uſe Indexes:
For turn unto what place you will,
You'll always find it open ſtill,
Which never man perplexes.
3.
Then I heard another ſay,
He thought ſhe was a Neuter,
Becauſe there came the other day
A Pupil and a Tutor:
But unto neither ſhe'd incline,
But unto both would ſingly joyn,
That ſo they might recruit her.
4.
Then I thought her the Common of Two,
From the Couple laſt was there, Sir,
And to her Parents gave their due,
As hic & haec did ſwear, Sir.
But if that ſhe be common to two,
She'll ne'r be true to me nor you;
And therefore have a care, Sir.
5.
Then I thought her the Common of Three,
Hic, haec, & hoc being with her;
And foelix, O happy was he
Did catch 'em altogether.
And if that ſhe be common to three,
She'll ne'r be true to you nor me,
Nor conſtant unto either.
6.
Then I thought, and ſo wou'd you,
She was of the Doubtful Gender;
For hic vel haec, and dies too,
Did day by day attend her.
And o'th' Doubtful Gender if ſhe be,
She'll doubtful be to you and me,
Although we do befriend her.
7.
And after we had ſcan'd her faults,
We found her much obſceanea;
And ſet a period to our thoughts,
To call her Epicaena,
Both he and ſhe, Hermaphrodite;
And Aquila did ſay ſhe was right,
And call'd her pocky Queana.
8.
Thus have I ſhew'd my Miſtriſs t'ye,
Both Feminine, Mas, and Neuter,
Nay, Common of Two, and Common of Three,
And Doubtful to her Suiter.
And Epicaene we may her call,
Becauſe ſhe ſwears ſhe owns 'em all,
There's none that can confute her.
My Miſtriſs underſtands all the Caſes.
To the ſame Tune.
1.
MY Miſtriſs ſhe hath Policie,
There's none can undermine her:
For underneath her ſelf ſhe'll lie,
Yet I will not define her.
She all mens Caſes makes her own,
'Cauſe ſhe's to all their Caſes known;
And therefore I'll decline her.
2.
And firſt, ſhe is a Nominative,
'Cauſe ſhe declineth Nomen;
And in the act Hominative,
Denies not Knights nor Yeomen.
Nay, ſhe can name 'em all at large,
That ere ſail'd within her Barge,
Whether they be tall or low men.
3.
Next, I call her Genitive,
'Cauſe ſhe's for Procreation;
And ſhe does uſe a Lenitive,
As a help to Generation.
Nay, ſhe's for getting all ſhe can
From every ſtout begetting man,
The beſt in all the Nation.
4.
Then a Dative ſhe is known,
From Do that was her Founder;
And before you quick falls down
As flat as any Flounder:
But whatſoever ſhe doth give,
She ten times more doth ſtill receive;
Which ſeems to me a wonder.
5.
I then Accuſative her call,
Whenever they neglect her:
For ſhe will curſe and blame 'em all,
Becauſe they do reject her.
But when her blaming fit is ore,
You then may enter Portal-door,
And calls you her Protector.
6.
Nay, all do call her Vocative,
Becauſe ſh'as a Vocation,
And has an art provocative,
To invite 'em to her Station.
But when they offer to go away,
Then O ſhe cries, Whoop Holiday,
Let's uſe Conglutination.
7.
Laſt I call her Ablative,
Becauſe ſhe's always taking;
And though her Suiters much do give,
Yet ſhell be always raking:
For in, with, through, for, by, and than,
Are the ſignes by which ſhe knows the man
Muſt ſet her Oven a baking.
8.
Thus from the firſt to the Ablative,
You ſee ſhe knows the way, Sir:
For when I met her at Bablick-hive
Near Oxford, ſhe did ſay, Sir,
That ſhe had a Caſe for every man,
And put him to't, do what he can,
And ſtill will hold him play, Sir.
A new Song,
to the new Jig-tune.
1.
MY Nanny, quoth he: Why Janny, quoth ſhe,
Your will, Sir?
I love thee, quoth he: If you love me, quoth ſhe,
Do ſo ſtill, Sir.
I'd gi' thee, quoth he: Wou'd you gi' me, quoth ſhe,
But what, Sir?
Why ſome Money, quoth he: O ſome Money, quoth ſhe?
Let me ha't, Sir.
2.
I'd ha' thee, quoth he: Wou'd you ha' me, quoth ſhe?
But where, Sir?
To my Chamber, quoth he: To your Chamber, quoth ſhe?
Why there, Sir?
I'd kiſs thee, quoth he: Wou'd you kiſs me, quoth ſhe?
But when, Sir?
Why now, quoth he: Neither now, quoth ſhe,
Nor then, Sir.
3.
I'd hug thee, quoth he: Wou'd you hug me, quoth ſhe?
How much, Sir?
Why a little, quoth he: 'Tis a little, quoth ſhe;
Not a touch, Sir.
I am fickiſh, quoth he: are you ſickiſh, quoth ſhe?
But why, Sir?
'Cauſe you ſlight me, quoth he: Do I ſlight you, quoth ſhe?
'Tis a lye, Sir.
4.
I'm dying, quoth he: O, dying, quoth ſhe!
Are you ſure on't?
'Tis certain, quoth he: Is't certain, quoth ſhe?
There's no cure on't.
Then farewel, quoth he: I and farewel, quoth ſhe,
My true Love.
I am going, quoth he: So am I too, quoth ſhe,
To a new Love.
A Song on the Declenſions.
The Tune, Shackle de Hay.
1.
MY Miſtriſs ſhe is fully known
To all the five Declenſions;
She'll ſearce them ſingly one by one,
And take their true Dimenſions.
She ne'r declin'd yet any man,
Yet they'll decline her now and than,
In ſpight of her Inventions.
2.
Firſt, Muſa is her Mothers name,
And haec does ſtill attend her;
She is a hujus burly Dame,
Though huic be but ſlender.
Yet ſhe'll have a hanc on every man,
And put 'em to't, do what they can,
Unleſs they do befriend her.
3.
Magiſter is her Maſter too,
And hic is ſtill his Man, Sir;
And filius is her Son alſo.
And dominus is her Grandfire.
Nay, lucus, agnus, and that Lamb-like Crew,
She'll call 'em hunc's, and haec's 'um too,
Do all that ere they can, Sir.
4.
Next, ſhe's to lapis very kind,
As honeſt hic has ſaid, Sir:
For ſhe's to precious ſtones inclin'd,
Long before ſhe was wed, Sir.
Which made her Parents often ſay,
That hic and haec both night and day
Was forc'd to watch her Bed, Sir.
5.
She beat poor manus with a Cane,
Though he did often hand her
From Whetſtones-Park and Parkers-lane,
And was her conſtant Pander.
Yet give him manibuſſes when
That ſhe cou'd get no other men,
That he cou'd notwithſtand her.
6.
'Bout Noon ſhe'd with meridies dine,
And ſup, and bed him too, Sir.
She'd make poor facies to her incline,
In ſpight of all he cou'd do, Sir.
She day by day would dies pledge;
Which ſet poor acies tooth an edge,
And often made him ſpew, Sir.
7.
Thus have I ſhew'd her kindneſs here,
And all her dear Relations;
As muſa, lapis, magiſter,
And all their antick faſhions.
Meridies, manus, and foelix too,
Had happy been, had they ne'r knew
Any of all her Stations.
The COMPARISONS.
The Tune, And 'tis the Knave of Clubs bears all the Sway.
1.
MY Miſtriſs ſhe loves Dignities;
For ſhe has taken three Degrees.
There's no Compariſon to be made
With her in all her ſubtle Trade:
For Audax boldly ſaid unto her,
Y'are poſitively known a Whore.
2.
And firſt, I Poſitive her call,
'Cauſe ſhe'll be abſolute in all:
For ſhe is ſtill to durus hard,
And often with ſweet dulcis jarr'd;
Which made kind triſtis very ſad,
To ſee poor pauper us'd ſo bad.
3.
Next, ſhe is call'd Comparative,
'Cauſe ſhe'll compare with any alive
In all the illiberal Sciences,
Which ſhe has learned by Degrees.
Nay, was more hard to durior,
Than all the reſt o'th' Crew before.
4.
Laſt, I Superlative her call,
'Cauſe ſhe'll be uppermoſt of all.
And yet although ſhe was ſo high,
Lov'd underneath her ſelf to lie;
And us'd duriſſimus, I hear,
The hard'ſt of all, when he came there.
5.
Thus have I t'ye my Miſtriſs ſhown,
How ſhe is poſitively known;
And Comparatively too,
She did outlearn the reſt o'th' Crew.
And of her being Superlative,
'Cauſe ſhe'd be higheſt of all alive.
Of the Five kinds of Verbs.
THe Verbs a Battle had of late, they ſay,
Which did conſiſt of five Regiments that day.
The firſt was call'd the Active; and they were
The activ'ſt men of any that were there.
And Amo was their chief Commander then,
Who ſaid, I love ye, 'cauſe y'are gallant men.
And Coronel Amo, with his active Crew,
Did lead the Van, which was indeed their due.
Next was the Paſſive, which was thought the beſt,
Becauſe they ſuffered more than all the reſt:
For thoſe that in a Fight do ſuffer moſt,
Are thought the braveſt men, though ſome are loſt.
And noble Amor did command in chief
That gallant Regiment, though to his grief:
For Amo onely ſays, I love; But I,
Amor, am loved, ſo ſhall be till I die.
The next Coronel that appear'd in fight,
Was known to be an arrant Hypocrite;
Which was old Neuter: for he'd ſometimes make
You to believe that he wou'd freely take
Your part; but twou'd ſometimes with curro run
From one ſide to th' other: but being egg'd on
To fight, then wou'd he have ſome ſlie trick,
And with aegroto, ſay, I'm very ſick:
And oftentimes wou'd give good words to either;
When truth to tell, he was indeed for neither.
And being Neuter, he was new-turn'd out;
At which the whole Regiment did give a ſhout.
Then the Commander of the fourth Regiment,
Was one they call'd Monſieur Deponent:
Which was for laying down as ſoon as choſe,
And was the firſt that endeavour'd to depoſe
Himſelf from that Command; and was Brother
To Neuter, they were ſo like each other.
He was indeed a Jack in a Box: for he
Wou'd ſometimes Active and then Paſſive be.
When Active, then muſt loquor verbum ſpeak
A word in his behalf, his mind to break:
But when Paſſive, and then did ſuffer moſt,
Yet wou'd he ſtill with glorior vaunt and boaſt.
Nay, their two Regiments did them ſo handle,
They both went out like a ſnuff of Candle.
The firſt Regiment was commanded by
One Communis of th'others Fraternity.
And though that he did always end in r,
Juſt like a Paſſive, yet would he always car'
A fair outſide to amo; and ſo free,
As to ſay to him, Oſculor te, I kiſs thee:
But when amor came, then who but he,
Saying, Oſculor à te, I'm kiſſed of thee.
Thus to conclude, and the truth to tell,
Had theſe three Regiments done their duty well,
There had been an end of that mortal Fray
Much ſooner than it was, as many ſay.
Then my advice is, ſhou'd they fight agen,
To chuſe for Coronels ſome other men.
And like him, 'tis very Common to proteſt
Kindneſs to one, when we mean nothing leſs.
The MOODS.
THe Battle of the Verbs being fully known,
And their Regiments deſcrib'd one by one,
The Moods intend, it ſeems, to let us know
The cauſe o'th' Quarrel, and the manner how.
The Indicative being the Primier Mood,
The reſt of them then did think it good
To let him ſpeak, as being Secretory,
And therefore being fitt'ſt to tell the ſtory;
Dear Brethren, ſays he, I muſt tell ye,
They were deceiv'd by fallo's Son, fefelli,
Who was employ'd by all the Verbs about it,
And he deceiv'd 'em, elſe they had not fought it.
And the chief cauſe indeed was, as I hear,
From ſome anomalous Verbs that were there;
Who are Verbs always out of rule, and ſo
Not to be rul'd by any man, you know:
As poſſum, volo, nolo, malo, and
Edo, fero, (who then was in command;)
And's unde feror too, and all the reſt
Of that tumultuous Crew, ſaid 'twas beſt
To fight it out. Says poſſum, I may or can,
Nay, am able to fight with any man.
Says volo, I am willing to ſide with you,
And will participate in what you do.
Nolo ſaid, He was unwilling to have peace:
And malo was more willing than all theſe
To fight. Says edo, I'll eat my way through 'um;
That's the ready way, ſays one, to undo 'um.
But fero was more fierce than all: for he
Said, he'd bear or ſuffer any thing, than flee.
Says ferro, I've born and ſuffer'd more than all,
And in your Cauſe reſolve to ſtand or fall.
Says fio, How came this to be made or done?
Then all fall on him, every Mothers ſon.
So ſome took one ſide, and others t'other,
Until they'd near deſtroy'd one another.
This being ſpoke, they all were at a ſtand:
Then ſays th' Imperative, I do command
Silence among ye all; and bid ye too,
Strictly to obſerve what I ſhall ſay or do:
For he was one that was imperious,
And never ſpoke in other manner, but thus:
Saying, Had I been there, I'd a charg'd 'em all
To ceaſe from fighting, or have made 'em fall
By my imperious hand: for let me but ſay,
Ama, amato, love thou, and they all obey;
Or pugnate, pugnatote, fight ye,
And if ye do well, then I will knight ye.
Thus my being abſent, caus'd the fight that day;
None knew how to command, nor none to obey.
He having finiſht his diſcourſe, up ſtarts
The Optative, who wiſht that all their hearts
Had been as his, then th'had not fought that day:
For he and's Foreman utinam ran away.
And though the Imperative had the greateſt command,
Yet he of Tenſes had five to one at hand
More than t'other; and was no good Houſe-holder,
As being ſo great a wiſher and a woulder.
For all good Prayers he did never want;
As, I would God, I pray God, and God grant.
And that there might be no more hatred, he'd ſay,
Ʋtinam amem, God grant I love alway;
Which is the onely way to keep's in peace.
And having ſo ſpoke, his Speech did ceaſe.
The Potential then ſtood up, and to 'em ſaid,
Next to the Imperative, he'd be obey'd:
For though he had indeed the chief command,
Yet he was more mighty both in Goods and Land;
As may be ſeen by the Signes at his door,
When others have but one, yet he has ſix more;
As may, can, might, could, would, ſhould, or ought;
Which unto this Potency has him brought:
And cou'd ſay amem, I may or can love,
Or let it alone: for he wou'd ſtill move
In his own Sphere; and never wou'd quarrel,
But relieve the needy, and thoſe that are ill:
Saying, I may or do what I pleaſe herein;
But 'tis beſt not fight, but ſleep in a whole skin.
The Subjunctive then began to tell his Tale;
But when he ſtriv'd to do't alone, wou'd fail,
But muſt be forc'd to take a Conjunction
To joyn with him, or not uſe his Function:
For the Subjunctive, if the truth were known,
Is but the Adjectives Baſtard: for alone
They can't ſtand in Reaſon or Signification,
But muſt have a word joyn'd to keep the ſence warm,
And ſtick like a Gizzard ſtill under each arm.
The Subjunctive then at laſt did declare,
He wou'd be ſubject to any thing elſe but War.
The Infinitive then to end the Debate,
Said, Of all the Verbs he did participate;
And alſo he cou'd do, ſuffer, or be
What he pleas'd within's own Seigniorie;
And was inferiour unto none
Of the Moods, but of himſelf cou'd ſtand alone:
For I can force amare to love my Daughter,
And amaturum eſſe, to love hereafter;
And amandum and amatum, to love alſo;
And amatu, to be belov'd whe'r he will or no.
And likewiſe can command docturum eſſe,
To teach hereafter my Daugher Beſſe.
Nay, I cou'd ſhew you an Infinite more;
But for brevities ſake, I now give ore,
And do infinitely deſire there may be
No more of fighting, if you'll be rul'd by me,
Of the TENSES.
THe Tenſes they being Servants to the Moods,
They call'd 'em to account about thoſe Feuds.
The Preſent Tenſe did firſt himſelf preſent,
(And truth to ſay, he did thoſe times lament)
He preſently then told them all, That they
Cou'd never think him guilty of that Fray:
For he vow'd, Had he been preſent when 'twas done,
He wou'd have been the firſt that ſhou'd a run:
For who knows better to get out of Bands,
When Times and Seaſons are all in our hands?
The Preterimperfect Tenſe did then appear;
But was imperfect in's relation there:
For though his time was not perfectly paſt,
He confeſt that with amabam he did love at laſt;
But loving not then, they told him 'twas a fault,
And was the cauſe that all that trouble was wrought.
He vow'd he was not there at that ſame time
When't began; ſo not guilty of that crime.
The Preterperfect Tenſe then began to plead,
Proteſting himſelf innocent of that deed:
For though his time was perfectly paſt, yet he
Said, I have lov'd amavi ferventlie;
For he and I do all ſuch Quarrels ſhun,
And never heard o'th' Battle, until 'twas done.
The Preterpluperfect then was call'd in,
And brought amaveram with him, who had bin
His long and conſtant friend, who ſaid, Though their time
Were more than perfectly paſt, yet that crime
Cou'd not be laid to their charge, 'cauſe that they
Had lov'd one another many a day.
And will do't ſtill with leave o'th' Future Tenſe,
That they got great applauſe when they went thence.
The Future Tenſe at laſt was called in,
Who plainly told 'em, If he had guilty bin
Of ſuch a thing, he deſerv'd to be blam'd:
But yet, ſay they, methinks y'are not aſham'd
To confeſs you did not love. No, ſays he,
I did not: for that can be no fault in me;
For an Aſtrologer told me once at home,
That my time of loving was not yet come:
And likewiſe told me, that amabo and I,
Shall or will love moſt certainly.
Then all the Court remov'd, and did pray
They ne'r might ſee ſuch another day.
On the Squibs and Crackers thrown on the Lord Mayors day.
'TWas juſt the day 'fore twenty ten
Of dull October, being then
The Lord Mayors ſhow, or eke his day,
So call'd by th' Vulgar, as they ſay:
I ſpeak not of that glorious Crew
That paſt us by in open view;
As firſt, the Companies ſeveral,
Belonging to each others Hall,
All clad in black, with half red Tippit,
Who on their Petitoes did trip it.
Nor of thoſe Velvet-coats ſo black,
With Chains of gold hung on their back;
Nor of that Teem of Scarlet-Riders,
Who of the City-wards are Guiders;
Nor of the Troops and Horſes fairneſs,
Whoſe Maſters all were clad in Harneſs,
Whoſe Officers Coats bedecked were
With Gold embroider'd every where;
Nor the Foot, with Bagpipe, Fife, and Drum,
Who thither with the reſt did come
For to attend our Soveraign,
(Whom God preſerve with all his Train;)
Nor of thoſe gallant Princely Coaches,
To all I gave a Bonos noches:
But of thoſe Gallants Treat I do,
That were Spectators of that Show;
Who there were placed in Balconies,
'Mongſt which were many antient Cronies,
And Ladies young: who all there ſtood,
I can't ſay ſit, they wiſht they cou'd:
For in the twinkling of an eye,
Such Squibs and Crackers then did flie
In ſuch a horrid fiery faſhion,
It forc'd them all to change their ſtation,
Leſt it ſhould burn their Garments gay,
Which borrowed were perhaps that day.
They chiefly flew, like Whirligigs,
On curled Hair and Perriwigs:
Nothing eſcap'd them, they were ſo ſet,
That all was Fiſh that came to Net.
A couple came that day to ſee
And to be ſeen, in all their braverie:
And dreſt they were moſt finically,
That all ſhou'd note that ſtood them by.
In ſtriped Mantua's they were dreſt,
Of all colours i'th' Rainbow, I proteſt.
And both were in Balcony ſet,
Thinking their gayneſs then ſo great,
That none wou'd venture their Squibs to fling
At them (being as fine as any thing.)
The Squibs and Cracker-men below
Obſerving what they did, and how
Confident they were that none would throw,
And being intent about the Show,
Some ten of them together flung,
Which did directly light among
Thoſe which in that Balcony ſate,
Which made them ſtir, but 'twas too late:
And 'fore they cou'd remove their ſtation,
Up came ten more i'the ſame faſhion;
Which quickly burnt their curled Hair,
Their Hoods and Scarfs, and all was there;
Their Rain-bow-colour'd Cloths, I find,
Were all burnt both before and behind;
And left 'em in moſt woful caſes:
For't ſcorcht the Patches on their faces.
They were ſo claw'd, that one did ſwear
They both like Gipſies did appear.
Though they came in in merry poſture,
Yet when went out, their eyes were moiſter.
Though they at fore-door did come in,
Yet they at back-door went out agin:
And forc'd were t' go to their old Stallion,
Being al-a-mode de Taterdemallion.
Alſo a Lord; but the Lord knows who
It was: for it burnt his Breeches too,
His Velvet-coat, Perriwig, and Hat,
And alſo his richly lac'd Cravat.
Nay, they from Windows ſcarce cou'd peep,
But ſuddenly were forc'd to creep
Back again, or thoſe Ladies fair
Were ſure to burn their Hoods and Hair.
No Gowns nor Whisks did then eſcape:
For on Petticoats they made a Rape;
Not on thoſe that were a top alone,
But below too, they were ſo ſawcy grown.
Another, it ſeems, then to ſecure
A pretty Lady, did then endure
A hot Conteſt: but by his leave,
It quickly burnt his Half-ſhirt-ſleeve.
The Author catcht one in's hand a top,
And flung't in's face that threw it up,
To keep't from them that were above:
But by his favour, it burnt his Glove.
Laſt I adviſe, if any chance to go
Agen to ſee the Lord Mayors Show,
They muſt not in Balconies ſtand,
Or any place that's low at hand;
But i'th' Garret, or the Leads a top:
For that's too high to fling 'em up.
A Song,
to the Tune of Thomas I cannot.
1.
COme, my Molly, let us be jolly,
Now we are both come hither;
Thy Mother's from home, and we are alone,
Then let us be merry together.
I'll give thee ſome Rings and Bracelets fine,
And other Trinkets, if thou wilt be mine.
In truth, good Sir, I dare not incline;
My Mother does tell me I munnot, I munnot,
My Mother does tell me I munnot.
2.
Thou ſha't have a Gown of the vineſt zilk,
The like was never zeena;
Thou ſha't ha the Cream of all the Milk
Of the Cows that go on the Greena,
To make thee ſome Curds and Cheeſcakes ſtore,
And Cuſtards too, all ſugar'd ore.
I pray you, good Sir, now ſay no more;
My Mother does tell me I munnot, &c.
3.
Thy Waſtcoat ſhall be of Scarlet too,
With Ribonds tyed together:
Thy Stockins ſhall be of a Bow-died hue,
And thy ſhoes of Spaniſh Leather.
And upon each Shoe a ſilken Knot
For to ſet out thy delicate foot.
In truth, good Sir, I dare not do't;
My Mother does tell me, &c.
4.
Thy Petticoat ſhall be of Sey,
The beſt in all the Towna;
And thou ſhalt wear it every day,
And zo thou ſhalt thy Gowna.
Thy Smock ſhall be of Holland fine,
If thou in love with me wo't joyn.
In truth, good Sir, I dare not combine;
My Mother does tell me, &c.
5.
I'll feof thee in a Copy-hold
Of Forty pound a yeara;
And I ha Twonty pound in Gold
Will ſerve to make good Cheara.
O no, you men, I know ye too well,
But give you an inch, and you'll take an ell,
And when you have done, you Tales will tell.
In truth, good Sir, I munnot, I munnot;
My Mother does tell me I munnot.
6.
Why then, my Molly, here I vow
My Lips ſhall ſtill be ſealed,
And whatſoever we do now,
Shall never be revealed.
With one ſweet Kiſs we'll ſeal the ſame;
Deny me but this, you are to blame.
O this Kiſs doth ſo inflame,
I cannot hold out a minit, a minit;
I cannot hold out a minit.
A SONG.
The Tune, My Dame Joan hath pawn'd her Kittle.
1.
CLear up thoſe ſtormy Brows, and teach
My weak and wadling Love to go:
Who makes 'twixt Infant-loves a breach,
Sure is no ſtout nor gallant foe.
Prethee let us prove, that Cupid is above
The firm Votes of immortal Fate:
Though a Child he be, let Malice ſee
That Love is ſtronger far than Hate.
2.
Then be no longer fondly coy;
Death's here more welcome than delay.
Love is a nimble ſprightly Boy,
And hath ſwift wings, the Poets ſay.
Let's loſe no time, 'tis a capital crime;
None ſins in Love like him that's ſlow.
If I wanton be, pray pardon me;
Love's a Child, and Children will be ſo.
3.
My Senſes call me dull, and blame
My calmneſs, that thus pleading ſtands.
Come, your Mother ſhe did do the ſame;
Yield, or I muſt lay violent hands.
For ſhall I ſpare one, ſuch a Rape hath done,
And violence on my Soul hath lain?
And why ſhould ſhe thus raviſh me,
And I not raviſh her again?
4.
Why this ſtir? why this denying?
This piſh, piſh, Groper, ſtand away?
Why this proud and coy denying,
'Cauſe I there my hand did lay?
I did grope, 'tis true; but in love ſure you
Will count it no offence, I hope.
If the cauſe you'll find, know Love is blind;
And they that cannot ſee, muſt grope.
A Mock-Song to Come my Daphne.
Man.
COme, my durty Pug, away;
What the Pox d'ye mean to ſay?
Wom.
'Tis Rowland calls; what wou'd my Swine?
Man.
Come up, you Whore, 'tis time to dine,
Where Vulcan ſhall provide
A Whip to claw your hide.
Wom.
Were I ſhut up within a Jail,
'Tis Rowland he muſt be my Bail.
Man.
You lazy Whore, make haſt,
The Meat at fire doth waſt.
In the burning Fountain I
Muſt for ever live and die;
And on thy mangy boſom ſtray,
Would fright, would fright,
Would fright the Devil away.
Chorus.
We'll howl and weep, and ne'r give ore,
Becauſe the Fiends do ſee, do ſee
The curſed glee
'Twixt thee and me;
But never will deplore
My ſad, but fatal Deſtinie.
Another Drunken Mock to
Come my Daphne.
T.
COme, my Bully-rock, away;
We do waſt this drinking day.
R.
'Tis Roger calls: What news, you Sot?
T.
Come ſee, you Rogue, what I have got:
For Bacchus ſtill provides
Brisk Wine to ſtuff our Hides.
R.
Were I ſhut up in Cellar deep,
I'd firſt be drunk before I'd ſleep.
T.
Ye lazy Rogue, make haſt,
The Wine will ſpoil and waſt.
R.
With good Sack and Claret I
Will for ever live and die:
And from Bung-hole ne'r will ſtray,
Till thee and I have ſuckt it quite away.
Chorus.
We'll drink and ſleep, and then we'll ſnore,
That Bacchus he
May dayly ſee
The Bubbing Glee
'Twixt thee and mee;
But never will give ore,
Whilſt we good Sack or Claret ſee.
The Wooing Gallant. A SONG.
1.
COme hither my deareſt, come hither to me,
And I will be ſo loving to thee,
As never was man before.
Then gi' me thy heart, and thou ſha't a mine:
For if I may be certain of thine,
I'll never deſire no more.
Then unto my houſe we'll trip it away,
And fit and provide for the Wedding-day.
We'll dance and we'll ſing,
And the Bells ſhall ring,
And the Fidlers round about us ſhall play.
2.
Thy Body with rich Apparel I'll deck,
And round about thy Ivory Neck
I'll place a Chain of Pearl,
So round and ſo fair, ſo fine and ſo neat,
That every one that chances to ſee't,
Will ſay thou'rt a lovely Girl.
Then be not ſo coy, but come away,
And I'll embrace thee both night and day:
For I vow and I ſwear
Thou ſhalt be my Dear,
And merrily we will ſing and play.
3.
The Girl ſhe ſtood off, and ſmiling ſaid,
I fear you mean to betray a Maid
That never did love before:
For men will diſſemble, and cog, and lye,
And ſwear they love you faithfully,
When they have another in ſtore.
But if that you mean to be faithful and true,
And that I ſhould be ſo to you,
Be loving and kind,
And change not your mind,
Or elſe for evermore adieu.
Ʋpon the taking down of the Kings Arms at
Oxford, in the time of the Rump,
viz. 1649. who inſtead of plucking down them on the Gate of the Phyſick-Garden in
Oxford, they were ſuch ex
cellent Heralds, that they pluckt down the Earl of
Danby's Arms, who was the Founder there.
IN Sixteen hundred forty nine,
When Cavaliers were forc'd to dine
At Duke Humfrey's Table ſtill;
(But 'twas, poor hearts! againſt their will)
A diſmal time when Rump did fart ye
A thouſand cracks 'gainſt Royal Partie;
And when Kings Arms were plucking down
In every City and in Town.
In Oxford-City there's a place
Call'd Phyſick-Garden, a little ſpace
From Colledge Magdalen doth ſtand,
Well known to many in this Land.
From Maudling-bridge it ſtands North-weſt,
So that muſt be from it South-eaſt.
This is ſo plain, you cannot miſs it,
That when y'are there, you'll ſay this is it.
The Walls that do ſurround this place,
And noble Gate which doth it grace,
And all the Land within the ſame,
For evermore will bear the name,
As being the particular Bount-
Ty of that noble Northern Count,
Who to's Prince to th' laſt did ſtand by,
Call'd Henricus Comes Danby.
This Gift, I ſay, was onely his,
(For which no doubt he is in Bliſs)
Unto the poor Univerſity,
Made ſo by th' Rump, the more's the pity.
And firſt of all this Rumpiſh Crew
That then did there appear in view,
With others that he thither brought
For to deſtroy, as then they thought,
Their Princes Arms, was a Colonel,
Who indeed was a Preacher, as well
As Souldier; and ſo he began
Then to preach to every man
His Rumpiſh Doctrine, and ſo bid
Them be valiant: and what they did,
He wou'd ſecure both great and ſmall
By an Ordinance from his Maſters all.
An Ordinance it might be call'd,
(Which oft the Cavaliers have maul'd)
By thundring of us out a Town,
From Poſt to Pillar up and down.
But name of Act it cannot bear,
Yet 'twas the Cornel's Act, I'll ſwear.
And with the Cornel there did go
His Lieutenant-Colonel alſo;
And Major too, and Captains ſtore,
And Enſigns and Lieutenants more.
And of the County-Committee
There were about the number three,
With others at the Colonels call;
I think there was the Devil and all.
But now comes out a pleaſant Tale
(If my memory do not fail)
Which in Oxford is very rife
In every mouth, and true on my life:
On the right hand of that brave Gate
Were Kings Arms plac'd in handſome ſtate,
And likewiſe Crown and Garter too,
As 'bout the Arms they uſe to do.
O'th' left hand was the Founders Arms,
Bold Danvers, who with loud Alarms
The Iriſh Rebels conquer'd ſo,
In little time he had no Foe
To wreak his Valour on; whoſe fame
Was ſpread abroad, that's very name
Would ſcatter all that Kerniſh Crew;
But Danvers cry, away they flew.
And before he came from thence,
Forc'd 'em to own their natural Prince.
For which important ſervice done,
(By way of Retaliation)
King James with Title then did greet him
Of Baron Danvers; which did meet him
'Fore he came to kiſs his hand. And's Son
Charles the firſt, for other ſervice done,
Did Earl of Danby him create,
And Knight o'th' Garter, (Honours great!)
Yet none for him too great was thought,
Who for his Prince ſo bravely fought:
So that by this I'd have you note,
He had the Garter round his Coat,
And Coronet alſo: which did make
Among our Heroes that great miſtake,
Which made for what I do intend,
(And then I'll draw unto an end.)
Theſe gallant new-made Gentlemen
(With the Country-Committee then)
And others of that new-dub'd Crew,
When both theſe Coats they chanc'd to view,
Like wiſe men, did with one accord
Command the Arms of this brave Lord
To be pull'd down inſtead o'th' Kings:
And ſo they flew, as 'twere with wings,
For to pull down, as they thought,
His Majeſties moſt Royal Coat.
Sure of Senſes they were bereft,
Not to know right hand from the left.
That they were Scholars, you can't deny,
'Cauſe in the Univerſity;
And wonder 'twas what Heraldry then
Was 'mong our Rumpiſh Gentlemen.
Or were they at that time afraid
To touch that Princely Coat? They laid
Not violent hands upon it then;
But I remember the time when
They durſt attack, as well as Crown,
His ſacred Perſon too, 'tis known.
Sure Providence did caſt a miſt
'Fore the Cor'nels eyes, and all the reſt,
That they cou'd not ſee that very day
('Cauſe their chief Light's within, they ſay.)
If ſo, then 'twas Prophetick ſure,
That they ſhould onely then obſcure,
And for a time to cloud the Crown,
But for their lives not pull it down.
Though th' Officers ſo little knew,
And Gentlemen of that great Crew,
What did belong to Arms; 'tis ſtrange
The Souldiers that did uſe to range
Themſelves each day in Rank and File,
(And many times their Arms recoil.)
And then the chief word of Command
Was, Stand to your Arms, to every Band;
Which they being often us'd to do,
Made 'em let the Kings Arms ſtand too.
Then after this in Merriment,
They all unto the Tavern went,
To congratulate each others act,
And all to own that prudent fact.
There were ſome twenty Officers,
With Committee-men, Friends of theirs;
So that there were 'bout thirty two
Of this moſt Solomon-like Crew:
Who had at laſt four pints of Sack
'Mongſt them all to ſtrengthen the back.
And though they wou'd not wench, nor ſwear,
Yet you ſee drink hard when they came there.
Nay, that they might ſeem more profuſe,
(Which was indeed their common uſe)
In half-pint-pots 'twas ſtill brought up;
But yet before they'd touch the cup,
With Hat in hand wou'd Bleſſing crave,
Leſt poiſon'd by a Cavalier Knave.
And as they thus ſate carouſing,
In comes a bold fellow, uſing
Great Reverence to that learned Gang,
Saying, They were better to hang
Than keep: And having a pint of Sack
In his hand, he like a mad Hack,
Drank the Kings health, and then threw
The Pot among that Spendthrift Crew,
Saying, Pox take ye all; and then flew
Down Stairs, without bidding 'em adieu.
Though they command Kings Arms pull down,
Yet ſtill hung up ſome of their own:
Which did prognoſticate, I ſay,
Their Arms ſhou'd firſt hang up; they, they.
We were ſo far from putting down
Their Arms, we ſet 'em up in Town.
Nay, they were ſo highly grac'd,
That ore the Kings Arms they were plac'd
On every Gate about the City;
Not ſooner done, the more's the pity.
The Rump their Juglings ſo did handle,
They all went out like Snuff of Candle.
And thoſe who bought King or Biſhops Lands,
At the happy Change, had their hands
Eas'd of all that mighty trouble,
After they'd brought the Rents to double.
So may they all be ſerv'd, that perſiſts
Not in heart and voice true Royaliſts:
And alſo thoſe that do repine
At this our Change; which by divine
Hand was then ſo brought about,
To ſcatter all that curſed Rout
Who had deſerv'd it long before,
For Cruelty, but Treaſon more.
A Mock-Song to
Cellamina:
And to that Tune.
1.
MAll, I ne'r yet knew thy mind;
Once agen I'll prove thee:
If thou wilt but be ſo kind
To kiſs me twice or thrice behind,
Faith I'll ever love thee.
2.
Tom, I'm ignorant, I vow,
Which way to come to it;
But if you the way will ſhow,
Firſt kiſs mine, then I ſhall know
The better how to do it.
3.
We'll draw Cuts then if thou wo't,
Now within this minnit;
And when we have drawn the Lot,
Thoſe that have the ſhorteſt Cut,
They ſhall then begin it.
4.
Hang your Cuts; do you begin't;
You're the firſt did move it:
And when I ſee you do't in print,
Sure you'll think the Devil's in't,
Should I not approve it.
Iter Occidentale: or, a Weſtern Voyage from the Old Exchange to the Gridiron near
Charingcroſs in the
Strand; and perform'd by five Gentlemen,
Nov. 5. 1673.
THough Squibs and Crackers thick did flie
On Lord Mayors day, like Snow in Skie;
But yet upon November Fift,
There flew of them ſo great a drift,
One ſcarce could paſs along the ſtreet,
But ſpight of teeth we did them meet.
And now the reaſon you wou'd hear,
Why this day's kept ſo ſtrict each year,
As being Holiday, and why not,
In memory of the Powder-plot.
But let that paſs, I now will treat
The Adventures theſe half ten did meet:
And coming into ſtreet call'd Cheap-
Side ſome do adde, we ſaw a heap
Of Ribble-rabble met together,
That threw their Squibs they car'd not whither,
That we, poor harmleſs Grigs,
Cou'd ſcarcely ſave our Perriwigs:
And I had then no more but one;
Had that been burnt, whoop, all was gone.
I forc'd was uſe both hat and hand,
To ſave my Wig and little Band.
Though but through Lane or Corner turn'd,
We did expect ſtill to be burn'd.
Nay, we were forc'd to skip i'th' Gutter,
But quickly we from thence muſt flutter:
For if y'are fixt in any place,
Hey Boys, ſays they: then look t' your face.
So that we ſtill skipt up and down
Like Morris-dancers in a Town.
And beſides this Rabble-rout,
We there did ſee a Rope ſtretcht out,
Which was on two Balconies fixt,
With Bonfires two or three betwixt;
And then upon that dangling Rope
We there did ſee a Rev'rend Pope,
With Sword by's ſide, and Croſier too,
And Trident in his hand alſo,
And eke his Pontificial Gown,
And Miter too, with Triple-Crown
All made of Cards: And being thus,
Methoughts it was prepoſterous
For Cards made for the hand, not head,
Or I'm like him in Faith miſled.
But now I think I've found the knack,
Why they of Cards his Crown did make,
And on his head Card-miter wore,
'Cauſe he a Cardinal was before;
And his Supremacy ariſes
By being the Head o'th' Cardinal Vices.
But why a Trident in his hand?
My troth, it puts me to a ſtand,
That he ſhould Neptune's Right aſſume,
Becauſe 'tis call'd the Sea of Rome:
And ſo we find by this, that he
Is Lord not o'th' Land alone, but Sea.
Witneſs that annual throwing in
A Ring into the Sea; which long hath bin
Continued by the Venetian State:
And when firſt done, the Pope he ſate
I'th' Bucentaure triumphantlie,
To wed that State unto the Sea:
For had he not a Right unto't,
Why did he at that time then do't?
But now I think upon it well,
The Sea of Rome, we all can tell,
Did overflow all Europe ore
In former times; but the Britiſh ſhore
For this hundred and fifty year,
Has put an ebb to's flowing here.
Beſides all this, as ſome do ſay,
He alſo had in's hand a Key,
With Boots and Spurs, as in a fright,
To ride away that very night:
And with's Key, it ſeems, he meant
To ope the City-gates as he went:
For's Keys the Gates do ope, we know,
Of Heaven above, and Hell below.
But for all that, ſuch was his fate,
To be that night unfortunate.
The Squibs ſo pelted him, he ſwore
He'd never come to England more,
If once he got away: and ſaid,
I now in my own Coyn am paid,
For uſing Hereticks ſo bad,
When I my Papal power had.
All thoſe that heard him then to ſay,
That he'd from England haſt away,
Him anſwer made in this ſame dreſs:
Good riddance to your Holineſs;
For we will never wholly be
Addicted to your Roman Sea.
Which made him fret and fume the more,
That we were forc'd to give him ore,
And left him in that angry vein;
Anon we'll ſpeak of him again.
And ſo from thence we marcht away
To Ludgate-ſtreet, there made a ſtay;
Where we eſpied another Object,
That to the Pope is trueſt Subject;
And that's a Cardinal, who there ſate
Triumphantly in Chair of State,
With all things fine, and all things pat,
And eke had there his Cardinals Hat,
Which fixed was upon his head,
Whoſe Gown and that were coloured.
The Rabble there made Applications
To him ſtill in Squib-like faſhions;
Which he did for an honour take
Unto all Cardinals for his ſake:
And glad he was to England come,
Saying, He was ne'r ſo ſerv'd at Rome.
And when in this they grew bolder,
Then he bleſt 'em ore the left ſhoulder,
Saying, I give my Benedicite
Unto all Hereticks; but ye
Eſpecially ſhall not miſs it,
For this November-viſit:
For I'm the Papal Nuncio here,
And all is under my Paternal care.
Nay, Beloved, I will aſſure ye,
I can be angry too, yea, in fury;
But not with any here of you
That honour me ſo in publick view.
And had I known that you'd a gave
Such honour as to me you have
Unto a Cardinal heretofore,
I had ſooner ſeen the Engliſh ſhore:
But 'tis not late to come at laſt,
Since I ſo freely of it taſt.
When they had honour'd him ſo much,
It ſeems they'd have another touch;
And with another Card'nal went
Round the City in merriment;
Whoſe Noſe was very long indeed:
No matter for that. But I'll proceed:
He Croſier had in's hand, and Croſs,
And on mens ſhoulders did him toſs;
Which does belong to Popes alone,
But here to Cardinals 'tis ſhown.
He marcht in pomp through every ſtreet;
And every one that did him meet,
When to adore cou'd not come nigh him,
Did with their Crackers kindly ply him:
Which he took kindly, and threw about
His Arms, ſtill bleſſing all the Rout.
At laſt he fixed was in's Station,
And all's Brethren i'th' ſame faſhion,
Fixed were in ſeveral places,
Who boldly there did ſhew their faces.
And though they Hereticks did us call,
Yet coming before the Tribunal
Of that great Rabble, they quickly found
That they were Catholicks unſound,
So Hereticks themſelves, and had
Committed Treaſon, which was ſad.
Nay, they the occaſion were, they ſay,
That this was made a Holy-day;
And ſo condemn'd them to the Flame,
Though he with Long-noſe ſmelt the ſame
Long before: and therefore did adviſe
Them both to be merry and wiſe;
And ſpoke to th' Pope, that he with's Key
Shou'd open them the ready way
To ſteal from all this Rabble-rout
As faſt as ere they cou'd get out.
But notwithſtanding his advice
Which he had urg'd unto 'em twice,
They ſo infatuated were,
They thought the Pope cou'd never erre:
Which makes it certain, the Popes Chair
Is not infallible every where.
And after they condemned were,
I do proteſt I did not hear
One word from either that did plead
In their own defence; 'twas ſtrange indeed!
Nor did they rail, nor ſcold, nor cry,
But took their deaths moſt patiently.
Nay, they were ſo very meek,
Not one ill word I heard 'em ſpeak;
But thought thoſe Flames to them a Glory,
As being thoſe of Purgatory;
And had no need of Pater-Noſters,
Or Ave-Maries dirg'd in Cloiſters,
For to fetch their Souls from thence;
They thought that done when they went hence.
That Lutherans now muſt think't a ſtory,
That ſay there is no Purgatory.
And now ye are convinc'd, I hope,
To have a better love to th' Pope.
They in that Flame ſo ſoon were burn'd,
That they to aſhes quickly turn'd.
One askt why they were ſo cruel,
To adde a flame unto the fewel
Of that giddy Multitude,
That then were ſo exceeding rude?
Said, For ſerving us i'th' ſame faſhion,
We do't but by retaliation:
They ſhew'd the way, we do but follow.
Then all began to whoop and hallow.
And then with many Squib-like flaſhes,
They took their leave o'th' holy Aſhes,
Saying, Dear Father, we bid adieu
For evermore to all your Crew.
Thus have you heard the ſtory true,
O'th' death of three o'th' ſeventy two
Cardinals: if ſo, then I find
There's but ſixty nine left behind;
Which is too many by ſix times ten,
And three times three, of ſuch kind of men.
And then we unto Fleet-ſtreet came,
Where all the way we ſaw the flame
Of numerous Bonfires for to light
The Pope and's Brothers to th' Grave that night.
From thence to th' Strand we came amain,
Where we did ſee ſo great a Train
Of Bonfires that were ſo light,
We did no Link-boys ſee that night:
And they petition'd have, they ſay,
That this Gunpowder-treaſon-day
May not come oft; for if it did,
They were undone: which Jove forbid.
For Rumpiſh Cornels two or three,
Of Link-boys Hall have all been free;
Of Majors, and of Captains more,
And eke Lieutenants greater ſtore;
Of Enſignes and Cornets many indeed,
Who had moſt colour for what they did.
Who all, you ſee, were linkt together
In that great Hall of wind and weather;
Who lighted all the Rumpiſh Gang
To their Deſerts, that is, to hang:
Better deſtroy any Corporation
Than that of Link-boys in this Nation:
For we in darkneſs were before,
And but for them, ſhou'd now be more,
'Bout which the Woodmongers and they
Had hot conteſt about that day.
The Link-boys beg'd it might be no more;
And t'other did deſire good ſtore:
Which did conſume their Billets and Faggots,
Which elſe wou'd be deſtroy'd with Maggots;
They cou'd not vend the ſmalleſt heap,
Becauſe that Coals were then ſo cheap.
And though we burn'd and broiled were,
Throughout the ſtreets every where;
Yet to th' Gridiron did we go,
To make the Proverb good, you know,
Out o'th' Frying-pan into th' Fire:
But yet, according to our deſire,
We there did find a broiling for us
(Which quickly drove away our ſorrows)
An excellent Fricacy of Rabbets,
So finely done and cut in gobbets;
Good Sawce, with excellent Drink good ſtore:
In conſcience we cou'd ask no more.
Then home we went to cuſhy all,
After this Papal Funeral.
Dated on November Fift, you plainly ſee,
A new SONG,
To the Tune of The Flatteries of Fate.
With the ANSWER.
1.
I Always reſolv'd to be from the Charms
That Love with his Subtilty ere cou'd invent;
I laught at his Deity, ſcorn'd at the Harms
That he cou'd inflict to abridge my content:
But now I do find,
Though the God he be blind,
The Mark he has hit, and hath changed my mind.
Though a Child thought he be,
Yet his Manhood I ſee:
For with one poor Shaft he hath conquered me.
2.
I often before great Beauties did ſee
With Charms in their Tongues, and Darts in their eyes,
Who ſought by their Wiles to intoxicate me;
But never till now they my heart cou'd ſurprize.
But now I do ſee
That a Slave I muſt be
To that which has been a Servant to me:
For the angry Gods Dart
Hath ſo wounded my Heart,
No Balm that's applied but increaſeth my ſmart.
3.
Thus have you heard our Love in a Maze,
This call'd a Labyrinth I ne'r could abide,
Whoſe turnings and windings are ſo many ways,
That none can get out, unleſs by a Guide.
But my Guide is ſo coy,
Though my Soul I employ
To lie at her feet, yet my hopes ſhe'll deſtroy;
And rather than I
Will keep touch with her eye
To lie at her feet, I'm reſolved to die.
The Anſwer to the laſt Song.
And to that Tune.
1.
I Pity thy Paſſion, Intoxicate Lover!
Can Venus's Philtres ſo prevalent be,
That thou ſhouldſt in a Phrenſie thy weakneſs diſcover,
And part with thy Manhood and Birthright ſo free?
Shall a purblind Boy
Thy Courage deſtroy,
And make thee ſubmit like a Slave to a Toy?
Are a Females Eyes
Such a notable Prize,
As to offer thy Life for a Sacrifice?
2.
What is ſhe ſome Angel, thou valueſt her ſo?
Is a Goddeſs engrav'd on her heavenly Brow?
If ſhe's but a woman, then ſtoop not ſo low:
For the woman was made for the man, you muſt know.
Wil
•
thou ſtoop to the checks
Of the Feminine Sex,
That dayly does ſtudy poor Mortals to vex?
Our Grandfathers Bride
Was took from his ſide,
As intended to help him, but never to guide.
3.
But if Reaſon muſt yield to effeminate fits,
If Frenzy muſt rule, and our Senſes be ſplaid,
If a man muſt run mad, and abjure all his wits;
Then may he thus wretchedly doat on a Maid.
If a courting I go,
My purſuit ſhould be ſo,
I wou'd ſeem not to care whe'r I had her or no.
That's a lawful Trepan;
And if 't were but began,
You'll ſee 'em run whining and cry for a man.
A SONG. With the ANSWER.
1.
SInce you will needs my heart poſſeſs,
'Tis juſt to you, I do confeſs
The fault to whom 'tis given:
It is to change much more inclin'd
Than Women, or the Sea, or Wind,
Or ought that's under Heaven.
2.
The fair, the black, the gay, the ſad,
Which often makes me think 'twas mad,
With one kind look would win it.
So natural it loves to range,
That it hath left ſucceſs for change;
And what's worſe, glories in it.
3.
Often when I am laid to reſt,
It makes me act like one poſſeſt:
For ſtill 'twill keep a puther.
Though you alone I do eſteem,
Yet 'twill make me in a dream
Court and enjoy another.
4.
Nor will I hide from you this truth,
Which has been from my very Youth
A moſt egregious Ranger:
For ſince from me it often fled,
With whom it was both born and bred,
'Twill ſcarce ſtay with a Stranger.
5.
But now, if you are not afraid,
After theſe truths which I have ſaid,
To take this arrant Rover:
Be not diſpleas'd, if I proteſt,
I think the heart within my breaſt
Will prove juſt ſuch another.
The ANSWER.
1.
SInce, Sir, your heart will then away,
Let that be gone which will not ſtay;
Yet I'll the ſame be ever:
With wandring Drake you then may range,
And like unconſtant Proteus change:
For my part I will never.
2.
But yet miſtake me not, my mind
Was never yet to Love inclin'd;
Much leſs to any Lover:
For I reſolved am to be
Still conſtant to Unconſtancie;
Which you'll by this diſcover.
3.
Methinks it is a pretty ſport
To ſee how Rivals do retort,
And grin upon each other.
A frown on this man makes him ſad;
On that, doth make him raving mad;
A ſmile inſnares another.
4.
'Tis brave to hear ſuch Gothams boaſt,
And how each other they accoſt;
Of which ſome are for fighting:
And ſome in corners do appear,
A wiſhing for their Panders there
And ſome are for inditing.
5.
This, Sir, 's Loves Paradiſe, wherein
Not a few parts have acted bin.
Since there your heart's a Ranger,
It ſhall the honour have to paſs,
And bray there like a very Aſs,
And ſo ſhall not a ſtranger.
A SONG call'd
Francelia: With the ANSWER.
To the Tune of Auguſta.
1.
FRancelia's heart is ſtill the ſame,
Cold and hard as Winters morning,
Round her Love is ever burning;
Yet no ſighs or tears can ever Yet no, &c.
Warm her Ice, or cool my Fever.
2.
So much I think and talk of her,
That every Grove and Stream can name her;
All the Nimphs and Ecchos blame her.
If ſhe keeps her cruel faſhion, If ſhe keeps, &c.
Onely Death can eaſe my Paſſion.
3.
All the Arts that Lovers have,
All the Vows and all the Anguiſh,
All the looks with which I languiſh,
Move not her to any feeling; Move not, &c.
Beauty takes delight in killing.
The ANSWER.
1.
FRancelia's heart is ſtill the ſame,
Kind and free to all embraces:
Though variety of faces
Dayly court her to obtain her, Dayly, &c.
They can never, never gain her.
2.
So much ſhe thinks and talks of me,
That every Room i'th' houſe proclaims it;
Nay, the babbling Eccho names it
By a kind Reverberation, By a kind, &c.
That ſhe's conſtant in her Paſſion.
3.
All the Arts her Lovers uſe
In their Preſents, Vows, and Treatings,
Still appear to be but Cheatings.
Nought ſhe ſays or does can pleaſe 'em, Nought, &c.
Makes 'em wiſh for death to eaſe 'em.
A Song ſet by Mr.
Staggins. With the Anſwer.
1.
WHy ſhou'd we ere Beauty fade,
Slaves to Care and Age be made,
Since our flying Youth can no more be had?
Where Love and Mirth do call, let's go
And crop new Joys each minute as they grow:
To morrow's fate there's none can know.
2.
Let's ſing and laugh ſad thoughts away,
Mirth ſhall rule the active day;
And the night to Raptures of Love we'll pay.
Thus ſhould Youth in Pleaſures reign;
And Gods that cannot put on Earth again,
Shall wiſh for ſuch delights in vain.
The ANSWER.
1.
WHy ſhould we ere think of Love?
Pox upon't, the Gods above
The Torments on't cou'd ne'r remove.
But if Lovers we muſt be,
God Bacchus ſhall be our Deitie:
For Wine alone can make us free.
2.
Let's ſing and throw Love-thoughts away,
Which ſtill does make our Health decay,
And our Wit too often run aſtray.
But Wine is ſo divine a thing,
Let's all its praiſes dayly ſing,
Seeing nought but that can pleaſure bring.
An excellent SGNG.
1.
ALas, what ſhall I do!
I have taken on me now
To make a Song, I vow:
A wo is me!
I am commanded to't;
I dare not ſtand it out,
Though I'm put to the rout:
It ſo muſt be.
Thou ſhalt do't;
Then ſtand to't,
I'll ſet my Muſe afoot,
With a good chirping Cup.
There may ſome hidden Mine
Spring from the Juice of Wine;
Then tak't and drink it up.
2.
Pox on't, it will not do;
I muſt have t'other two;
I claim it as my due,
And muſt lov't:
For where the Land is dry,
The good Husband doth hie
To bring the water nigh
To improv't.
Here's the uſe of the Juice;
Open me then the Sluce,
And die my Wit in grain.
That Soul's ne'r empty
That takes it in plenty;
'Tis the onely Spring of the Brain.
3.
Madam, now you may ſee
What Obedience is in me;
I have done what may be
For to obey.
I have ſet my Muſe on foot,
With the ſprightly Grape to boot,
That commands me do't:
'Tis they muſt ſway.
If my Pate, ſoon or late,
Shall bring forth ſome conceit;
To you my wit I owe.
If I do fall flat,
It is, mark you that,
I'm a Cup too low.
If I ſpoke ſence enough,
Or did ſpeak but ſtuff,
All is alike to me:
I'll never pauſe upon't.
You were the cauſe on't;
And that's my Apologie.
On a Beautiful Miſs.
1.
I Know I'm no Poet;
My Song will ſoon ſhow it:
But my Sorrows do flow like a Spring.
Although they do ſhame me,
The world cannot blame me,
That I ſhould thus dolefully ſing.
My loſs is ſo great,
And ſuch a Defeat
No Mortal had ever before:
For ſhe had every Feature
Of a beautiful Creature;
And no man can ſay any more.
2.
Her Lips, it is true,
Were of Coventry-blue;
But her Hair was a fine Bow-dye.
Her Stature was low,
But her Noſe was not ſo:
For 'twas O moſt delicate high.
Her upper Lip thin,
Which finely turn'd in,
And her Teeth were as black as a coal:
But her under ſtood out
To receive from her Snout
The droppings that came from each hole.
3.
Though ſome Teeth ſhe wanted,
The reſt were ſo planted,
That Nature did ſhew no neglect:
What in ſome ſhe deni'd,
She in others ſuppli'd,
Becauſe there ſhould be no defect.
'Tis true, we do know
Sh'ad ſome gaps below,
But yet it was plain to be ſeen
That her upper Teeth met 'em,
Nature ſo well had ſet 'em,
Like Tallies they clapt in between.
4.
Thus with a good grace
They took their due place,
And they ſtood hither and thither;
We plainly may ſee
They all did agree,
And lovingly met together.
To ſtand in a row
Is common, you know;
But the beſt and the neweſt way,
Is to ſee, without doubt,
Teeth ſtand in and out,
As if they were dancing the Hay.
5.
No Needle nor Pin
Was ſo ſharp as her Chin,
Which her Noſe did ſo lovingly meet,
That like Siſter and Brother
They kiſt one another;
It was a great pleaſure to ſee't.
No Globe cou'd be found
So perfectly round,
As her Back was, by all that mind her.
And to give her her due,
Her Head turn'd like a Skrew
To ſtudy the Globe behind her.
6.
Her Breath it was ſtrong,
Her Legs ſhort and long,
To make up her perfect ſhape;
Her Cheeks were like Lent
When 'tis almoſt ſpent,
And her Face was as ſweet as an Ape.
Her Skin might be taken
For a gammon of Bacon;
Her Breſts, never Trencher ſo flat;
So fine was her mouth,
That it ſtood North and South;
And ſh'ad delicate Eyes like a Cat.
7.
I think it is meet
To ſpeak of her feet,
And tell you how well they were made;
I will not deceive ye,
But if you'll believe me,
They had the true ſhape of a Spade,
So fine and ſo flat;
But when ſhe did pat,
So even a guard ſhe did keep:
With legs high and low,
That when ſhe did go,
You'd think ſhe were playing Bo-peep.
8.
But this Narration
Breeds ſuch moleſtation
Within my unfortunate breaſt,
I can ſay no more,
But muſt give it ore,
And leave you to gueſs at the reſt.
Search all the world round,
None ſuch can be found,
So well ſhe pleaſed my Pallet;
That I'll pine all my life
For the loſs of my Wife:
And there is an end of my Ballet.
The Patient Man, and the Scolding Wife.
1.
M. WIfe, come gi' me thy hand now,
And ſit thee down by me;
There's never a man in the Land now
Shall be more loving to thee.
W. I hate to ſit by ſuch a Drone;
Thou ly'ſt like a Log in my Bed.
I had better a lain alone:
For I ſtill have my Maidenhead.
2.
M. Wife, prethee now leave off thy ranting,
And let us both agree;
There's nothing elſe ſhall be wanting,
If thou wo't be ruled by me.
W. I will have a Coach and a Man,
And a Saddle-horſe to ride;
I alſo will have a Sedan,
And a Footman to run by my ſide.
3.
M. Thou ſha't have all this, my dear Wife,
And thou ſha't bear the Sway;
Nay, I'll provide thee good Cheer, Wife,
'Gainſt thou com'ſt from the Park or a Play.
W. I'll have every week a new Gown,
And a Petticoat died in Grain,
Of the modiſheſt Silk in the Town;
And a Page to hold up my Train.
4.
M. Thou ſha't have this too, my ſweet Wife,
If thou't contented be,
Or any thing elſe that is meet, Wife,
If thou wo't be ruled by me.
W. I will have a Gallant or two,
And they ſhall be handſome men;
And I'll make you to know your kue,
When they come in and go out agen.
5.
M. Methinks a couple's too few, Wife;
Thou ſha't have three or four:
And yet I know thou't be true, Wife,
Although thou hadſt half a ſcore.
W. I will have as many as I pleaſe,
In ſpight of your teeth, you fool;
And when I have the Pocky diſeaſe,
'Tis you that ſhall empty my Stool.
6.
M. Why how now, you brazen-fac'd Harlot!
I'll make you to change your note;
And if ever I find that you ſnarl at
My actions, I'll bang your Coat.
Nay, I'll make you to wait, you Flaps,
At Table till I have din'd;
And I'll leave you nothing but Scraps,
Till I find you better inclin'd.
7.
W. Sweet Husband, I now cry Peccavi;
You know we women are frail:
And for the ill words that I gave ye,
Ask pardon, and hope to prevail.
For now I will lie at your foot,
Deſiring to kiſs your hand;
Nay, caſt off my Gallants to boot,
And ſtill be at your command.
The Doating Lover.
1.
WAs ever man ſo happy as I, Sir!
My Miſtriſs has gi'n me a kiſs:
But I full long at her door did lie, Sir,
Before I cou'd compaſs this.
I cring'd, and I bow'd,
And I ſung to my Crowd;
But never cou'd get it before.
And if but another I may be allow'd,
I'd lie there a twelve month more.
2.
Though for a time ſhe did deprive me
The favour of ſeeing her face,
That balmy Kiſs did ſo revive me,
It made me take heart a grace.
And if as I ſee
Such Vertue there be
In one poor innocent Kiſs,
I'll give my Eſtate, whatere be my fate,
To get ſuch another as this.
3.
For he that's poſſeſt with Riches and Honour,
May meet with a cruel Dame;
'Twill ſignifie nothing until he has won her
To anſwer his amorous flame.
Let him hunt, let him hawk,
Let him drink, let him talk,
And ſtrive to forget her diſdain:
He ne'r in his breaſt will have any reſt,
Until he comes to her again.
A Song on a Wedding.
1.
NOw that Loves Holiday is come,
And Madge the Maid hath ſwept the Room,
And trim'd her Spit and Pot;
Awake, my merry, my merry Muſe, and ſing
The Revels, and that other thing
That muſt not be forgot.
2.
As the gray Morning dawn'd, 'tis ſed,
Clariſſa broke out of her bed,
Like Cynthia in her pride;
Where all the Maiden-Lights that were
Compriz'd within our Hemiſphere,
Attended at her ſide.
3.
But wot you then, with much ado
They dreſt the Bride from top to toe,
And brought her from her Chamber,
Deck'd in her Robes and Garments gay,
More ſumptuous than the flow'rs in May,
Or Stars inſhrin'd in Amber.
4.
The ſparkling Bullies of her Eyes,
Like two eclipſed Suns did riſe
Beneath her Criſtal Brow,
To ſhew by thoſe ſtrange accidents,
Some changeable Events
Were like to hap below.
5.
Her Cheeks beſtreakt with white and red,
Like pretty Tel-tales of the Bed,
Preſag'd the bluſtring night
With his incircling arms and ſhade,
Reſolv'd to ſwallow and invade,
And skreen her Virgin-light.
6.
Her Lips, thoſe threads of Scarlet-die,
Wherein Loves Charms and Quiver lie,
Legions of Sweets did crown;
Which ſmilingly did ſeem to ſay,
O crop me, crop me, whilſt you may;
Anon they're not mine own.
7.
Her Breaſts, thoſe melting Alps of Snow,
On whoſe fair hill, in open ſhow,
The God of Love lay napping,
Like ſwelling Buts of lively Wine,
Upon the Ivory ſtalls did ſhine,
To wait the lucky tapping.
8.
Her Waſte, that ſlender Type of man,
Was but a ſmall and ſingle ſpan;
Yet I dare ſafely ſwear,
He that whole thouſands has in fee,
Wou'd forfeit all, ſo he might be
Lord of the Mannor there.
9.
But now, before I paſs the Line,
Pray, Reader, give me leave to dine,
And pauſe here in the middle;
The Bridegroom and the Parſon knock,
With all the Hymeneal flock,
The Plum-cake and the Fiddle.
10.
Whenas the Prieſt Clariſſa ſees,
He ſtar'd as't had bin half his fees
To gaze upon her face.
And if the Spirit did not move,
His Continence was far above
Each ſinner in the place.
11.
With mick ſtir he joyn'd their hands,
And hamper'd 'em in Marriage-bands
As faſt as faſt might be.
Where ſtill methinks, methinks I hear
That ſecret Sigh in every ear,
O Love, remember me.
12.
Which done, the Cook he knockt amain,
And up the Diſhes in a train
Came ſmoaking two and two.
With that they wipt their mouths and ſate,
Some fell to quaffing, ſome to prate;
Aye marry, and welcome too.
13.
In Pairs they thus impal'd the Meat,
Roger, and Marget, and Thomas, and Kate,
Rafe and Beſs, Andrew and Maudlin,
And Valentine eke, with Sybil ſo ſweet,
Whoſe Cheeks on each ſide of her Snuffers did meet,
As round and plump as a Codlin.
14.
When at the laſt they'd fetcht their fees,
And mir'd their ſtomach up to th' knees
In Claret, for and good Chear,
Then, then began the merry din:
For 'twas thought they were all on the Pin.
O what kiſſing and clipping was there!
15.
But as luck would have't, the Parſon ſaid Grace,
And to frisking and dancing they ſhuffled apace.
Each Lad took's Laſt by the fiſt;
Who there did kiſs her and turn her, until
The fat of her face ran down like a Mill;
He toul'd for the reſt of the Griſt.
16.
In ſweat and in duſt having waſted the day,
They enter'd on the laſt Act of the Play.
The Bride to her Bed was convey'd;
Where knee-deep each hand fell down to the ground,
And in ſeeking the Garter, much pleaſure was found;
'Twou'd a made a mans arm have ſtray'd.
17.
This Clutter ore, Clariſſa lay
Half-bedded, like the peeping day,
Behind Olympus Cap;
Whilſt at her head each twittering Girl
The fatal Stockin quick did whirl,
To know the lucky hap.
18.
The Bridegroom in at laſt did ruffle,
All diſappointed in the buſtle,
The Maids had ſhav'd his Breeches.
But let him not complain, till then
In ſuch a ſtorm, I can tell when,
He ſav'd his other Stitches.
19.
And now he bounc'd into the Bed,
Even juſt as if a man had ſed,
Fair Lady, have at all.
Where twiſted at the hug they lay,
Like Venus and the ſprightful Boy:
O who wou'd fear the fall!
20.
Thus both with Loves ſweet Tapers fir'd,
A thouſand balmy Kiſſes tir'd,
They cou'd not wait the reſt.
But out the Folk and Candles fled,
And to't they went; but what they did,
There lies the Cream o'th' Jeſt.
A poſitive Farewel to Love.
1.
WHen in the month of January,
Ripe Apples grow on Trees;
When Butter doth in Fehruary,
At once both thaw and freeze;
When Horſes flie, Beaſts headleſs walk;
When Chairs and Stools do move;
When Mutes as faſt as Women talk;
Then will I fall in love.
2.
When Cherries in the month of March
As ripe are as in June;
When men inſtead of Corn ſow Starch;
When Bears do ſing in tune;
When Fiſhes on the Trees do chatter;
When Womens Tongues ne'r move;
When Men forbear to lie and flatter;
Then will I fall in love.
3.
If when it rains, the ground be dry;
Or when 'tis foul, fair weather;
When Sun and Moon ſhall in the Sky
Both meet and dance together;
When the Heavens fall where th' Earth doth ſtand,
And th' Earth doth mount above,
And I can graſp both in my hand;
Then will I fall in love.
4.
A Lover he no Will doth know;
He cannot ſpeak or ſtir:
He is a Child, and cannot go,
But as he's mov'd by her.
Whilſt I ſtill by my ſelf do move,
And to my Pleaſures bend:
Then farewel unto ſhitten Love.
And ſo I'll make an end.