A dialogue between claret & darby-ale a poem, considered in an accidental conversation between two gentlemen.

A dialogue between claret & darby-ale a poem, considered in an accidental conversation between two gentlemen.

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Title page

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN Claret and Darby-Ale.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN Claret and Darby-Ale.

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[Page]

Two Gentlemen meeting on Ludgate-Hill.

1st Gent.

WElcome from the Country Dear Harry; what an Affliction has your Absence been to your Friends, who have hardly Enjoyed one pleasant Hour since you left us.

2d Gent.

And I as few pleasant Minutes.— They may talk what they will of the Diversions of the Country, as Hawking, Hunting, Setting, Coursing, &c. There's no true solid Pleasure like a Town-Life, half a Dozen honest Friends, and as many refreshing Bottles of generous Wine, is a Pleasure which the Country cannot parrallel.

1st Gent.

Pardon me there Sir; the very pleasure you speak of you may Enjoy to as full a Perfection in the Country as you can in the Town.

2d Gent.

You would be of another Opinion Will, if you knew what was my usual Company; To day a couple of noisy Knights talking of nothing but Taxes and Politicks.— To morrow three or four Insipid 'Squires discoursing of their [Page] Horses and Dogs, as Crop and Dapple, Iowler, Rockwood, Ringwood and Bowman. Two or three days after, an old Country Iustice, with five or six Rich Yeomen confounding the Gazets and publick News-Papers with their senseless Commentaries. But what need I say more, are not these think you very agreeable Converse? I am as glad I am come again to this dear Town as an Englishman who has been six Months Prisoner at St. Maloes is to see his Native Country once more.

1st Gent.

Then you reckon your coming to Town just as the Iews did their return from the Land of Captivity.

2d Gent.

Well, let the Iews be in Captivity or out of Captivity, I care not; but this Discourse Edifies no more than a Relation of the New Lights to a Blind Man: I am for more substantial Doctrin.—Besides I hate standing in the Street, it looks so like Men of Business, and those Fellows, you know are my most particular Aversion: Let me see, what Tavern are we near? Where we may meet with a Glass of old racy generous Wine, such as the Gods Drink when they'r a Dry, for I am resolv'd not to part with you, till we have refresht our Understandings to such a pitch, that we shall be as Witty as Poets, as Wise as Statesmen, and as Religious as the Council of Trent: What sayst thou my Lad, ha?

1st Gent.

I think Harry you need not the additional help of the Bottle, for you talk as briskly already as if you were Inspir'd.—What think you of a Dish of Settle-brain.

2d Gent.

Coffee I suppose you mean; no, no, Will, I never think on't at all; I have above twenty Actions against that and Small beer.— Prethee no more of that sober Discourse, but to the matter in hand; whither shall we go, to the George, or the Three-Tuns? You know 'em both I'm sure.

2d Gent.

Yes, as I did Mrs. you know who, about four years ago; Faith, 'twas a pretty familiar Girl till she practis'd Jilting, and then you are sensible 'tis high time to quit her.

[Page]2d Gent.

Why? have they Disoblig'd you lately by drawing you bad Wine?

1st Gent.

No, never to my knowledg.— To tell you the plain Truth Harry, I drink no Wine; and I think the Enmity between us is so great, that I fear we shall not be Friends again.

2d Gent.

Then I come in a very lucky minute to Reconcile you; come, we will drink one compounding Bottle of Claret, and see if we can bring matters to accomodation.

1st Gent.

I'll as soon drink one Bottle of Aqua-fortis.— Besides, you'r deceiv'd if you think to find Claret in Town; I will not say but there may be such Liquor; but a Town-Iilt never went by more Names than Claret does now; in one place 'tis Barcelona, in another Navarr, here Syracuse, and there St. Sebastian; but the general Name they give it is Red-port.

2d Gent.

Let 'em give it as many Names as the Mogul has Titles, I care not; come, come, you shall drink one Bottle with me.

1st Gent.

Indeed you must excuse me Harry, for I swear I will not drink one drop of Wine.

2d Gent.

One may guess as much by thy Ember-week Complexion: You know I hate to press upon my Friends too much: What then will you Drink? Or what is your beloved Liquor? For I am resolved we will no more part with dry Lips, than half-a-dozen Fanaticks formerly met together, could part without railing at the Government.

1st Gent.

Truly my ordinary Liquor is the product of our own Country, good nappy well-brew'd Ale; but when I would Regale my Sense, and treat my Palate, 'tis generally with a Pint or two of Nottingham or Darby.

2d Gent.

Ha, ha, ha, Ale, quoth a! A Man of thy sense and drink such foggy, unedifying Stuff! But we will not here descend into the Merits of the Cause; come I have [Page] found out an Expedient will please us both; let's go to the Wonder within the Gate, and I doubt not but honest Ned B—s will furnish us with Liquors both good in their Kinds, you with your Darby, and me with my Claret.

1st Gent.

Agreed,— The House stands rarely well for a Trade.

2d Gent.

And no doubt it has it.— Sirrah, Drawer, bid your Master bring us up a Bottle of Darby, and a Half-Flask of the best Red he has in his Cellar.

1st Gent.

Now we are set, Dear Harry let's have a short account of some Country Intreagues of thine; an Assignation in a Barn may, for Variety's sake, please as well as at a Ladys Lodgings in the Pell-Mell.

2d Gent.

Something may be done after a Dozen Gasses or so; but you shall first oblige me with some piece of Wit, Satyr, or Lampoon, for I know you have been very happy in Procuring things of that Nature.

1st Gent.

Faith the Town has been very Dull this Vacation.— But this Morning I met a Friend who gave me a Paper of Verses, which he said pleas'd him; I have not had so much Leisure as to read a Line of 'em yet; but here they are, and I wish they may be diverting.

2d Gent.

They will no doubt; Wit is sometimes as agreeable over a Glass, and relishes as well as a Neats-Tongue or a Dish of Anchovies. —Bless me! Will, 'tis the very subject we could have wisht for.— a Dialogue between Claret and Darby Ale. — If the Author manages his Subject well, we shall have Diversion enough, no doubt; but before we Read it, we'll take Half-a-dozen Glasses a piece to the memory of our absent Friends.

1st Gent.

With all my Heart, — And then I hope the Poem will Attone for the Dullness of my Company.

2d Gent.

No Complements Will.— But now to the business.— A Dialogue between Claret and Darby Ale, — A kind of Aesop's Fable in Verse.—A half Flask of Claret standing on a Table, a Bottle of Darby Enters, and places himself[Page]within half a Yard of him; at which Affront the Claret in a passion Speaks.

Reads. —

Claret.

What Slave art thou, Impertinent and Rude,

That dar'st upon my Privacies Intrude?

Speak quickly Wretch, and tell me who thou art,

Thy business too, or instantly Depart.

Darby.

Good words will breed no Blisters on the Tongue;

To call me Slave and Wretch, you do me wrong;

If you provoke me, I perhaps can shew

As much of Birth and Pedegree as you;

For by your poor Straw Iacket, 'tis as plain,

As by your Questions, you'r no Gentleman.

Claret.

Ill judging Fool, who dost by outsides guess,

And value things by their Appearances;

My Quality I may in time Disclose,

But till I know your Name, we must be Foes.

Darby.

Since Choler o're your Reason does prevail,

I'll Humour you,—My Name is Darby-Ale.

Claret.

Your Servant; Are you then that Mighty Sir,

Who have so lately made so great a Stir?

You and your Cousin German Nottingham,

Had so ingrost the Breath of airy Fame,

That all the Coffee-Houses of the Town,

Did you their Tutelary Angel own;

Nay more, your boldness grew to such a height,

That you presum'd at last t' invade my Right.

Well said Old Straw-bottle, there's an Action good in Law, and faith I'll lay twenty Pound thou carryest it.

Darby.

My Country Breeding is I must confess,

As yet not Polisht with a fine Address:

I know no wrong I've done.— But taxt by you,

'Tis fit your Name and Quality I knew,

[Page]That I may either Vindicate the Action,

Or else Submit and give you Satisfaction.

Claret.

Spoke like a Spark; but since I stoop so low,

To let thy Little Self my Title know:

Prepare thy Ears, and Tremble when you hear it,

I am the most Immortal Liquor Claret,

Sent down to be a Charm for mortal Cares,

Son of the Sun, and Brother to the Stars.

That's a Line I have read in some Play or other; but however 'tis well enough applyed here.

Darby.

I'm glad I know you, High and Mighty Sir;

Think you your pompous empty Name could stir

My Choler? No, your Title makes me fear,

As much as if you'd been Six Shilling Beer.

Claret.

Thou Son of Earth, thou dull insipid thing,

To Level me, who am of Liquors King,

With lean Small Beer, but that thou art not worth

My Anger, else I'de frown thee into Earth.

Darby.

I neither fear your Frown, nor court your Smile:

But if I'm not mistaken all this while,

By other Names than Claret you are known.

Claret.

You do not hear me Sir the Fact disown,

Some call me Barcelona, some Navar,

Some Syracuse; but at the Vintners Bar

My Name's Red Port: But call me what they will,

Claret I am, and will be Claret still.

Darby.

So needy Sparks by several Names are known:

It argues Knav'ry to have more than one.

None knows in private what the Vinters do,

But there's some Roguery hatcht between you two,

Those Sons of Bacchus else could never hold:

Why? There's more Wine by Name of Claret sold

One Month in London, than a man can guess

To be the Product of three Vintages.

[Page]1st Gent.

There I think he is pretty even with him, for the Vintners do certainly play the Devil in their Cellars; and therefore 'twas no ill Joke when a Brewers Servant meeting a Vintner of his acquaintance, bid him Good morrow Brother Brewer.

2d Gent.

You have heard the Plaintiff, and 'twould be unjust not to hear the Defendant too.—Let me read on.

Claret.

Offspring of Element and Grains forbear,

And press not too Inquisitively near

Our Mysteries: For 'tis not fit you know,

What my old Friend the Vintner and I do.

What Racks and Tortures ere I undergo,

That 'tis for my amendment done I know;

And I appear all fine at Iovial Club.

Darby.

As Fluxing Sinner rose from Sweating-Tub:

The diff'rence only lies between you two,

He is by Mercury Cur'd, by Brimstone you.

1st Gent.

There I think Old Darby has given him a home thrust: Come, here's one Health of Remembrance to all our Friends in the North for that Jokes sake.

2d Gent.

'Tis a rude kind of Jest tho, just like his breeding: But I'll read on.

Claret.

Dull Slave, thy empty foolish Puns forbear,

Know that more Virtue in this Flask I bear,

To chear the Blood, and make the Spirits Quicker,

Than is in Tuns of thy Insipid Liquor.

Darby.

What mighty Difference lies between us two?

I warm the Blood as much, or more than you.

Claret.

You warm the Blood! You put it in a Flame,

While I with gentle Fires just Heat the same:

What Man with Thee one Ev'nings brunt has stood,

But rose with Aking-Head and Fev'rish Blood?

[Page]Whereas my Friends could no such Symptoms Mark,

But rise next Morning Chearful as the Lark.

Darby.

Could you Examin Pluto's Weekly Bill,

You'd find amongst those Crouds his Caverns fill,

Forty by Drinking Wine that thither came,

For one, by Darby Ale and Nottingham.

Claret.

Are you his Register, so well you know

The state of the Departed Souls below?

I thought that secret had belong'd to Fate,

But Fools of things above them sometimes prate.

Darby.

Since you are mov'd, we'll choose another Theam,

My want of Spirit sure you wont Condemn;

I warm the Blood, and Doctors all agree,

When that is brisk, the Spirits must be free.

Claret.

With senseless Jests, and farfetcht Repartee,

For sure no other Wit was caus'd by thee;

The Blood indeed you Warm with Poysonous Fire,

But I yet never heard you could Inspire,

Except some Smithfield Poets when they Write,

And sad and Lamentable Songs Indite;

For I have heard when liberal Draughts of Thee,

Have warm'd the Brains that kept thee Company;

Such senseless Strains pass currently for Wit,

As Irish Teague ne're spoke, nor Saff—ld Writ;

Whereas the Friends that Hug me every Night,

(Not measuring time by Hours, but by Delight

Are men of sense, deep Judgment, Fancy, Wit;

When they 'bout me in Consultation sit,

Each Glass creates some pretty Virgin Thought,

Which but for me had ne're to light been brought;

For Poets, Lawyers, Orators confess,

Their words appear in the most charming Dress,

When they of me have took a plenteous Glass;

If this be true, Faith Darby thou r't an Ass.

Darby.

How strangely you Insult and Domineer,

You Foreign Born, and I a Native here.

[Page]I thought French Breeding was more Civiliz'd.

Claret.

You Scoundrel Dog, am I not Nat'ralliz'd?

The greatest part o'th' Nation own my Iuice,

While they with Justice Foggy-Ale refuse.

Darby.

But Acts of Parliament 'gainst you are made.

Claret.

What seem'd to Crush has but advanc'd my Trade.

Darby.

Then you it seems (so very great your sense is)

Are above Law, as Saints 'bove Ordinances;

But there may come a time—

Claret.

—When you shall be,

Loaded with shame, disgrace and infamy.

Back to thy Native Soyl, return again,

While I my Grandeur and my Pomp maintain;

Thy Credit's clearly lost about the Town,

And none but Red nos'd Sots thy Power own,

Else in Gazetts and Advertisements, you

Would ne're have begg'd for Custom; Is this true?

Darby.

Perhaps it may, perhaps it may be not,

May racking Gouts, Pains, Aches, be the Lot

Of him that Drinks thee, may he more be Curst

With Fev'rish Heats, and an Eternal Thirst,

Till Raving Madness him of Sense bereave;

So with these Hearty Prayers I take my Leave.

Claret.

What, Angry Darby? Nay, before you go,

Pray be so kind to hear my Wishes too:

May Rhumes, Catarrhs, Defluctions light upon

Thy Favorites; but chiefly let the Stone

Oppress them so, that in their Fits they may,

To go to Hell for Ease, devoutly Pray;

May Palsies rack their Joynts, sharp Pains their Head,

And not one part about their Bodies Freed

From Misery.— And so farewel Old-Darby,

Born at the Peak, or else the Devil's Ass Hard-by.

Exeunt.

2d Gent.

What think you now Will, who has got the better on't?

[Page]1st Gent.

They seem to be pretty equally Matcht; but I believe the Poet Loves Claret, he seems to be so favourable to that side.

2d Gent.

He's much in the right on't, for Faith Will that Ale you Drink is a most [...]ulsom Liquor: Let me feel your Pulse.—Lord! How hot you are? and your Face looks as Red as the Moon in Eclipse.— I am resolv'd to undertake thy Conversion, and bring thee over to the Faith again; and to morrow we'll Dine at the Rummer in Queen-street and swim in Claret.

1st Gent.

I begin to be a little Sensible of my Mistake; but since I am under no Vow, Wager, nor Obligation, for once I'll venture upon One Pint to morrow, but it will be as odd and nauseous to me at first, as the Bitter Draught is to Children troubled with the Worms.

2d Gent.

Never think on't.—Let the first Pint be what it will, the second shall absolutely recover thee from thy Dangerous Heresy.— I am sorry tho, we must Part so soon; but I have some business in the City, and fear I have outstaid my time.

1st Gent.

I am sure I am not very fit for business of any sort, this Ale has got into my Head, I'le go to the Playhouse to keep my self out of bad Company.

2nd Gent.

A pleasant thought.— Then till to morrow Adieu.

1st Gent.

I will not fail.— Here Boy, Take your Mony

FINIS.

§

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A DIALOGUE BETWEEN Claret & Darby-Ale. A POEM. Considered in an accidental Conversation between two Gentlemen.

LONDON: Printed for E. Richardson, 1692.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

THe Folly of Love: A Satyr against Women. A Poem.

The Siege and Surrender of Mons: A Tragi-Comedy. Exposing the Villany of the Priests, and the Intriegues of the French.

The Pleasures of Love and Marriage: A Poem in Praise of the Fair Sex. In Requital for the Folly of Love, and some other late Styrs on Women.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

A dialogue between claret & darby-ale a poem, considered in an accidental conversation between two gentlemen.

Ward, Edward, 1667-1731.

Edition statement

1692

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-07 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A67500

ID [STC]

Wing W732

ID [STC]

ESTC R15114

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

12208467

ID [OCLC]

ocm 12208467

ID [VID]

56215

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Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A67500)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 56215)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 904:36)

Source

— A dialogue between claret & darby-ale a poem, considered in an accidental conversation between two gentlemen., Ward, Edward, 1667-1731., Ames, Richard, d. 1693..

Extent

[2], 10 p.

Printed for E. Richardson,. London :: 1692.. (Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.) (Also attributed to Richard Ames. cf. NUC pre-1956.) (Advertisement at end.)

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