Honest Man pray let me have that Ballad Have you any thing against Bishops Bookw. Yes Sir. There is Little Laud in Limbo and Lambeth Fair and Rome for a Corner'd Cap and the Character of a Bishop Scut I shall think the better of you Ballad-men hereafter The price of them Bookw. Two Groats Scut Very cheap If I get the Living I 'll have thee my Clark. Fant Hang you Rascal I 'll venture in I 'll serve your Turn Scut Nay Sir I 'll give them a Character of you you Popeling I 'll be there as soon as you I warrant you They justle at the Door Exeunt Bookw. These are brave Times I 'll lay Ten Pound the Basket-maker carries it away Exit Enter a Tinker singing Tinker When Alexander cross'd the Seas King Pippin and Diogenes Mul'd Sack is good to cure the Fleas Tom Tinker lives a merry Life And is o' th' mending hand A Copper Nose a Brazen Face He hath at your Command Come come Have you any Work for a Tinker Have you any Bellows or Bowls to mend Any Dishes Kettles or Skillets or old Frying-Pans to mend Come come I can mend Platter-Faces or Crack'd Maiden-Heads or Tipt Cuckold's-Horns Who will buy a brave Candlestick My Wares are all sound but I must crack of them to make them sell the better He that useth this Candlestick shall do more with a Week than another with a Quarter and he that tells his Gold by this Candlestick without ever a Candle in 't shall not find it Light. I 'll warrant this was the Candlestick Diogenes sought for an Honest Man with I was offer'd Moneys enough for it two Years ago by an old Blade to set upon an Altar in his Chancel But now Conformity burns and stinks in the Socket and Wax-Candles wax dim and are like to go out in a Snuff yet it serves a Papist to light him to Rome For the Pope's Fire begins to burn Blew and it 's thought he wants a pair of Tongs to turn up his Purgatory-bottom-Cake Come who buys it That the Tinker may have some better Mettal to melt into Ale. He that will chaffer shall have this Prolonger into the Bargain O brave Prolonger If Patents and Monopolies had had Prolongers they had not gone out yet You that are the Lights of the Church have Extinguishers enow but your two Steeples like double-wick'd-Candles wont Prolongers Ship-Money Star Chamber High-Commission Michaelmas Term all want Prolongers But I shall prolong the time and take nothing But who comes here Another Black Coat Sure here is some Carrion here-abouts I see so many Crows stirring Have you any Work for a Tinker Enter Fantastes Fant This is as brave as can be I 'll set him on Work now Jovial Tinker Where 's the best Liquor Ha Tink God bless your Learning Master There is good Liquor I never Drunk quicker And if thou 'lt follow me Thou 'st find Chink And I 'll find Drink And so we 'll Merry be Master will you set a poor Tinker on Work Fant Alas What Work should Scholars have for Tinkers Tink What Master will you give me leave You are but Tinkers your selves many of you Fant As how prithee Tink How Why you keep such a Hammering of a poor Text before you can hit the right Nail on the head and then in stopping one Hole you oftentimes make two Fant Thou' rt a mad Blade Tink Nay and none but Scholars and Tinkers carry all their Tools about them to mend this Brass and Iron Age. Fant Hark thee Tom canst Fight lustily Tink Ay Faith therein we differ You Black Coats are Cowards and we are not Yes I can play at Quarter-staff a little Fant Wilt thou be true to me Tink Will I not Bully Hector try me Fant Why Sirrah here is a Living void here in Town and I am come to try my Fortune for it Here even now I met with a Roguish Sniveling New-English Basket-maker that does abuse me and all Scholars as past Wouldst thou think that he is gone in here to get the Living from us all Tink Does he snivle in the Nose Master Fant Ay Tom that he does Tink By Iove I 'll sell him a pair of Snuffers Fant Stand here and watch for him and search his Pockets and thou shalt see what Authors he reads Look you There 's Twelve-pence for thee and meet me half an Hour hence at the Ale-House and whether thou speedest or not I 'll give thee half a dozen of Ale and we 'll Laugh and be Merry Tink Hark you Master I 'll make him down on his Knees and pray for Bishops e're I have done with him Let me alone Fant Be sure you Pay him soundly Spare him not Exit Tink This is Handsome A Basket-maker get a Living He had best bring a pair of Hilts with him I 'll have a bout at Wastrels with him I 'll teach him how to baste a Pulpit Here he comes I 'll listen awhile what Tune his Nose is in that I may mend it Enter Goodman Scuttle Scut Ah as very a wicked Man as ever I came near a very Reprobate not any good word came from him But he must have Money Money 'T is a thousand pitties that such good Men as we should be put aside by such Carnal and Unsanctify'd Patrons Tink Have you any Work for a Tinker Yo Friend Will you set a poor Tinker on Work Scut Away away for Banbury I have no Work for such Fellows as you are Tink Yea but Sirrah Rascal I 'll Work for nothing Beats him Scut Oh Murder Murder Will you kill me Tink Sirrah It is revealed unto me that you have a mind to Preach and to leave your Trade Thus and thus and then thus you must thump the Cushion Beats him Come on you Knave You told never a Lye to day for the good of the Church did you Scut Yea indeed but I 'll do so no more Pray spare my Bife Tink Sirrah Will you lead me to a Cup of good Ale Scut Ay ay Tink And to a pritty Wench Scut Ay so it may be private Tink And will you love good Scholars Scut Ay indeed Tink And pray for Bishops Scut Ay and Arch-Bishops too Tink Nay now I see you are a dissembling Knave I 'll have you Silenc'd i'Faith You gaped for a Benefice Now gape gags him so now let me see what is in your Pockets Scut Awe awe awe He feels in his Pockets and pulls out a Book of Characters Tink Ay I 'll keep you in awe How now what 's here A Book of Characters O Sirrah you write Characters do you I 'll pay you in Words at length Here 's good Gear indeed Come on Now get up So let me see Pins his Book on his Back Come I 'll give you Induction you have your Orders about you Come Sirrah or I 'll choak thee Scut Au au au Exeunt Enter Marchurch alone March. Oh the blessed'st days that ever came I think when I was Born
pure Heliconian Pickle Invent. Marry and Soust Hog's Head is no ill Meat Furor Pedanto Gentlemen you are welcome Ye take me at a hard Task here Fur. Why Prithee Pedanto what 's thy Negotium Ped. Why Gentlemen my Trade is to teach Wild-Geese how tâ— fly in the Figure of Criss-Cross-Row That is to say in English I am a School-master and here against Christmas I am blowing my Nose for a Dialogue Invent. A Dialogue What 's that It 's neither Prologue nor Epilogue nor Tragedy nor Comedy nor Pastoral nor Satyr nor Masque nor Morrice-Dance What 's a Dialogue Ped. Why Gentlemen a Dialogue is a Poetical Pudding or the Muses Hodg-Podg a Discourse like that between Dr. Faustus and the Devil or two or three Men in a Pig-Market That 's a Dialogue Invent. May I be so bold as to peruse your Library Ped. Yes Sir if you please see the Books I have borrowed for the Business Invention takes up the Books looks in them and speaks Invent. Plautus A subtile Diver into Man and yet The fate of Poets Poverty and Wit Pimp Mercury and Cuckold-making Iove Amphitrion's Horns and Alcamena's Love Could not find out a better Quill nor we A better Father for our Poetry Fur. And yet he came off in his last Act like a Costive Man from the Stool without wiping His Splay-feet were too broad for Verse He 'd been a pretty Fellow but that they fed him with Mill-Corn and Pottage So take him Jaylor Invent. Ben. Iohnson Great Brick-bat Ben the Envy of thy Days Thy only English Brow deserves the Bays Others did wear the Ivy-Bush as Sign Not of their Wit but Lattice-face and Wine But thy Industrious Brain great Ben did seem To make the Lawrel which thou wore grow Green. Thine are the Tragicks and the Comick Lays And thou' rt th'Refiner of our Drossy Phrase And so thy Alchymy I dare be bold Hath turn'd our baser Mettal into Gold. Fur. Pritty Pritty An ordinary Wit would make him Piss and Stink at th'Stake like an old Bear. And then damnable tedious and costly too Every half quarter of an Hour a glass of Sack must be sent of an Errand into his Guts to tell his Brains they must come up quickly and help out with a Line So take him Jaylor Invent. Shakspear His Quill as quick as Feather from the Bow O who can such another Falstaff show And if thy Learning had been like thy Wit Ben would have blusht and Iohnson never writ Fur. Pish. I never read any of him but in Tobacco-papers and the bottom of Pigeon-Pies But he had been a Curate to the Stage so long that he could not choose but get some ends and bottoms I and they were his Fees too But for the fine and true Dramatick Law He was a Dunce and scribled with a Straw Invent. Beaumont and Fletcher The Muse's Twins and in our English Sphere Castor and Pollux so they did appear 'T is thought when they were Born Appollo's Will Was to divide th'Two-top't Parnassus Hill That Beaumont Lofty Beaumont might have one And Fletcher take the other for his Throne Fur. A pair of Journey-Men They write both with a Quill Thus have I seen two Grey-hound Puppies play With one another's itching Tails all day A couple of Cowards Part them and like two Worms they would shrink in their Heads Marry Take them together and let them spit in one another's Mouths and they would do smartly They would Club for Verse One find Rhyme and another Reason So take them Jaylor Invent. Tom Randolph's Poems A sweeter Swan did never Sing upon The Downy Banks of Oylie Helicon Methinks I see the Fates and Muses fight Who 's Chaplain Tom should be and in despight Like Iealous Lovers bring him to his Herse That they might kiss his Chin and read his Verse Fur. 'T was Tom a Bedlam not Tom Randolph sure His Wit 's too Violent long to endure Pitty so rare a Fancy should have found An Helicon so deep as to be drown'd Tom's dead and every Muse hath vow'd to be For Stafford's sake a Stafford's Niobe Take him Jaylor Invent. These Authors are as good as you can have Have you done the Dialogue Ped. Alass Gentlemen I am allowed no fuel to my Sacred fire of Poetry but I am fain to Curb and Curtail my Fancy I scorn a Dialogue as I do Toys and Pamphlets I had intended to have had my Scene Delphos Apollo and the Nine Muses should have been in a Masque But we have no Clothes unless we would dress them like Gypsies or Butter-Queens with Baskets on their Arms. I would have had an Oracle Priest Poet and Notaries And that Oracle should have told Fortunes All these Poet's Ghosts should have come in their Winding-Sheets But in truth we have not so much Linnen in the Town as would have dress'd them I had much ado to borrow an old Doublet to act a Tinker in and am fain to pay for Hair to make Beards of as if the Horse-Tail was the Golden-Fleece Fur. Difficile est Satyram non scribere He overthrows all the Books Must Poet's Fancies thus be starv'd and tortur'd Avant ye Bastards of Parnassus Mount Forswear the Stage Undoff your Comick Sock Which being sold this Ignorant Age will scarce Bestow the washing of th'Illiterate World Poets were once Crowned and Godded too Now not a Penny to buy them Ink withal And no more Sack than what they take in Spoons He snatcheth away the Quills As dying Men do from your dirty Nurses Away with that same Quill away with 't Boy I would some Prentice would light on 't to cross his Master's debt-Debt-Books when he 's Drunk Or some Elder-Brother find it to Subscribe to Ten i' th' Hundred Or it would serve a whole Corporation to set their Marks to a Petition against Bishops May it be so full of Teeth as to write a Libel first and then the Sentence against the Libellor's Ears But to lie sucking of the Fingers thus Making a Plot fit for the Theatre Or Roscius to present and have no Scene No Clothes no Properties no Candle scarce 'T is this makes Furor mad makes Furor fret Wit that should nothing want doth nothing get Ped. But my Credit lies at stake Gentlemen There 's never an empty Head of my Trade hereabouts but ventures to be Witty and therefore something must be done and something in English too because here 's Gentlemen will be present at it and something for the Times and all out of Nothing Invent. And something shall be done Furor shall we conjure Fur. Furor shall conjure and I 'll raise the Poets and charm their Quills to write a Satyr for thee A Satyr that shall Sting and Lash and Scratch sharp like a Razor that shall make Men hang themselves And those Nine Brats of Helicon shall leave their Horse-Pool to come and grease thy Buskins with their Sweat. Invent. Speak shall it be a Tragedy or a Comedy a Pastoral or Satyr Invention
of Richard the Sixth what a Mayor is A Mayor is a Magistrate with two Legs Sadled and Bridled for his Masters service very stable without stumbling being foremost in a Team of Aldermen Now this Mayor comes to his Office two ways either he is Chosen or Elected For you must know two Places are capable of a Major the one a Corporation the other a Body-Politick Chosen by two sorts of Men the one Brethren the other Fraternity Since therefore I am Elected I will not Nod away my time but spend it as that famous Cateline did when he was Mayor in Rome and in punishing Usury an Hundred and sixty Years ago And so Brethren hoping that some of you will help me and other some of you assist me I rest God save the King. Watch. 2. The King I say God save your Worship I'm but an ignorant Man but in my opinion it is a rare Speech is 't not Neighbour Our Vicar for all his black Coat hath not such a word in his Belly Mar. Well Friends I think this will do If the Fools had chosen me Burgess I would have Speech'd it in better Stuff than this is All 's one Caetere quaecunque volunt go look to your Business Ambo. God bless you Sir and many a good Mayor's Speech may you make Exeunt Watchmen Mar. alone Well this Wenches Belly is a vile Pull-back But here comes my Nephew What Bookish too Cookery or Houswifery I trow Enter Marpudding reading Well he 's worth twenty Wenches I think the best Porridg-maker in the World. I 'll listen a while Marpud. Ha How to make a Hen lay twice a day after Saint Andrews But a Cock to his Crew That at Treading is true For 't is that which they say Doth cause the Hen to lay And when your Hen hath laid her Egg She 'll Cackle and stretch out her Leg. Then fill her full of Grain And something she will Lay again Well I 'll make our Maids look after the second Laying or I 'll A pretty Book this is I wonder why it sets not down what Egg-shells are good for It goes to my Heart to see so many Egg-shells thrown away and broken How to make good Pottage for Servants Ay marry Reads Take green Puddle out of a Bog Thickned with the Spawn of a Frog Let there be a Dishclout in 't And of Barley Flower a Pint Marry this is costly Bullocks Liver is good stuff Boyl them till they be enough The Duck-weed Liqour being green Is like Pot-herbs quickly seen The Dishclout will both fat the Pot And make Brewiss too I wot The Liver will make 't of Meat to taste And if they will not eat it let them fast Well I 'll have this by heart March. Why how now Nephew What Book have you got there The Practice of Piety Marpud. Piety No. The Practice of good Housewifery I trow an excellent Book this is I pray you Sir speak to your Servants they call me Cotquean and I know not what if I look but a little after them Would you think they cannot Fry a bit of Pudding without Butter There 's your Maid Vrseley your Kitchin-wench is more Sauce than Pig and they cozen me too For I 'll be sworn I grop'd the Hens this Morning and there were a Dozen of them with Egg I 'm sure and I can find but Five Your Scotchman Hob too since he came into England hath learnt to pare his Cheese Uncle Uncle they 'r Corn-fed pray you Chide them March. I will Iohn I will. What have we to Dinner I pray you Let us spare a little Next Year I must be Mayor and then we will be Liquorish Marpud. Why there is Sassages which you left cold last Night and good warm Milk-Porredg I was a making a Pudding too but I came to look you The Parson is dead and there 's one stays with a Letter to speak to you Pray order it so that I may have something too March. Good News good News I 'll warrant you Exit March. Marpud. Well I must read good thrifty Cookery against next Year He pulls out his Book again How to wash Clothes without Soap Take Hogs-dung a good deal Enter Ursley stirring a Pudding What do you follow me for Can I never be at quiet What do you want I wonder Vrs. Want I would my Quarter were come out I would see you hang'd e're I would dwell here Your Uncle sends word he 'll have a Minister Dine here and is this a Pudding fitting Never an Egg in it nor a bit of Suet. For love of God give us some and some Money for Plumbs Marpud. Plumbs Yes Do you long Come come you stir it handsomely He takes it from her and stirs it I 'll make this a good Pudding I 'll warrant you Here go you and put these Onions into the Pot. Gives her some Onions out of his Pocket Vrs. Nay then take Apron and all She pulls off her Apron and he spies her great Belly Marpud. Ha! brave Whisking What are you with Child As I 'm an honest Man big Belly'd This is good Gear Vrs. Yes Sir that I am with Child and to your cost too Aside I'll vex him since he hath spy'd it Marpud. Mine you Whore What would be seen Vrs. Goodly Mr. Iohn how strange you make it Well I 'll never trust Man again You 've forgot what you did to me I warrant you but I have something to show for 't You are like to be a Father I promise you Do you remember the Pantry last Lent when you wanted a bit of Flesh Marpud. O you impudent Jade When What Where Did I ever touch you Vrs. Did you not How dare you stand in 't Did you not And did not I tell you I was with Child and long'd for a Turnip which you gave me and bid me keep close Marpud. O damn'd Whore I was accurst that ever I had to do with thee you Quean Vrs. It seems you had knowledg of me then well your Tongue will not suffer you to Lie. Marpud. Husie Did I ever meddle or make with thee Vrs. Make with me Ay that you did We joyn'd to make a Child Marpud. I joyn you Strumpet The Devil is in thee Vrs. He was when you were in me but never else Marpud. A Pox on your Pudding He throws it down Husie I 'll go tell my Uncle Vrs. Nay I 'll be there before you He and all the Town shall know it They know partly you are never out of the Kitchin prying up and down after my Tail snooking in every Hole Cotquean Who should do it but you Sirrah She offers to go out Marpud. Nay but stay Vrsley one word Did I ever touch you No never in all my Life You will undo me for ever Vrs. Did you Ay and did not I tell you I would find another Father And so I will yet if you will be rul'd Meddle or not Meddle how will you help your self if I lay it to you
all ill Fortune was lull'd asleep and the fatal Planets were in a Swoon I never saw that wrinkled Brow of Fortune Her clearer Face hath always shined upon my Days Nay Now just now When I look'd to have been Branded for ever for this same Vrsely I think there was a Mask or Vizard drawn over the Eyes of the World. My Servants and People all from Home And Vrsely had no sooner spawn'd but there comes a Gypsie Beggar-woman to my Door who for Twenty Shillings took away the Bastard with her I made her a sufficient Pass to carry her far enough In troth Vrsely's was an excellent Plot to keep my Nephew in Aw If it be possible I 'll Marry her off with this Living One two three four five Black Coats but not a Penny among them all I wonder what 's become of Hob He hath paid Homily soundly they say Draws out a Letter Here 's a Letter Good News I hope some Chapman for the Living He opens the Letter Enter Hob dress'd like a Parson and Homily as his Man. Hob. Cud's Noun's Sir Homily Here 's my Master Sir Hom. Peace peace You must not call me Homily but Iack. Hob. Why then Iack Homily Sir Hom. Nay that 's worst of all Call me plain Iack. Hob. Why then Plain Iack. Come stand close Fifteen Years old am I say'st thou Sir Hom. Pish. I say Fifty Hob. Fifty How many Twenties is that Sir Hom. It 's twenty to one you 'll spoyl all Hob. Now now Come stand close by me good Homily O Iack I would say You Hear Ho Honest Man. Hark ye me Hear Does not Mr. Marchurch live here I 'se pray Sir Hom. O that 's well done Hob. Cud's duds He 'll know me March. Lawye now Here 's another that makes Six Marry he hath a Man waits on him Yes Sir Mr. Marchurch does dwell here Would you speak with him Hob. Yea marry would I. I 'se come forty Miles to speak with him God speed Plough March. I am the Man Sir Marchurch is my Name Hob. Iack Iack must I ask him Who gave him that Name Sir Hom. No no. Tell him you are a Suitor to him for the Living Hob. Why Sir Goodine to your Worship I 'se hear you have a Living in your Gift I'se a poor Minister Sir and shall be bound to pray for your Worship and you shall give it me I 'll live like an Honest Man among you March. Alas Sir you are a meer Stranger to me but by your Language you seem to be a Northern Man. Hob. Yea Sir I was Born in Cumberland and had a good Living in the North tho I say it but when the Scots came last Year I was fain to fly and make Money of what I had March. Nay if you have Money have at you as errand a Clown as you are Aside Why Sir a Cumberland Man say you I have a Tenant here in Town your Country-man his name is Hob an Honest Man. Hob. Cuds duds cuds duds cuds duds Iack. Aside Sir Hom. Sir I pray you speak louder my Master is somewhat Deaf He hears you not Hob. God-a-mercy Iack. Why Sir Hob say you is his Name There is a famous Cudgel-player of his Name March. I pray you Sir what may be your Name Hob. What 's my Name My Name my Name is Richmond My Father was a good Gentleman I 'se sure March. That Skil's not worth what your Father was your own Parsonage shews you to be a Man sufficient Hob. Yea Sir but your Parsonage would do it better March. Why Sir I must needs confess there is a pritty Living in my Hands Hob. Yea Sir. There 's something in my Hand too Shews him Money March. Why I hope that you and I shall shake Hands presently What University are you of Hob. Oxford March. Have you taken your Degrees there Sir Hob. Degrees I have spent an Hundred Pounds there by Degrees March. Was you ever Fellow of any House Hob. Yea marry now and then Fellow of an Ale-House March. The Canon doth not require any thing but that you be able to speak a piece of Latin. Hob. Latin yea that I can Twenty pieces of better Mettal than Latin. Hang Latin it is good for nothing but Dripping-pans March. You say right There is a great deal of Popery in it You have no Living as yet Sir I pray you Hob. No indeed Sir you are my first Chapman I have not bidden a Penny to any Man but your Worship Pray use me well and you shall have more of my Custom March. Marry and I have another Commodity for thee if thou be'st not Marry'd aside How Old are you Sir I pray Hob. Why Sir Ise two Twenties and Ten. Fifteen March. That 's nothing you Parsons live long Sir Hom Coff and make your self Sick. aside Hob. Alas Sir I am Old and Crazy Ho ho ho Hold my Head Iack. Oh Sick. Sir Hom. O admirably well done aside Hob. Oh ho ho I am so troubled with the Coughing of the Lungs it will e'en kill me March. I hope it will e're long aside Alas Sir I am sorry to see you so Sickly Pulls out an Aquavitae-bottle Here Sir I pray you drink a little of this I never go without my Bottle Hob. Oh ho ho God thank your Worship It will even fall again into your hands before seven Years come to an end March. Why Sir because I see you are so Sickly and likely to be an Honest Man among us hark you Whispers him Hob. Fifty Pieces Marry God bless us you had need lend me your Aquavitae-bottle again this gangs cold to my Heart Fifty Pieces March. Ay Twenty down now and I 'll take your word for the rest Sir Hom. Offer him Twenty offer him Twenty Do do Aside Hob. Why will Twenty fetch it down now upon the Stubs Here it is in good Gold. If I live tway Years more I 'se give you Ten Pounds more if I like my Bargain What Sir Livings are fallen now March. In truth I thought mine would never have fallen Ha ha ha These are dangerous Times I shall have some Chaplain or other come with the King's Title and cozen me or some Mischief if I keep it in my Hands Aside Are you a Married Man Sir Hob. No marry not I Sir. March. If I use you well I hope you 'll not speak on 't Hob. No no I 'se be as Mum as a Lawyer without his Fee. March. I hope you 'll live Peaceably among us and not go to Law or present any Man Hob. Yea marry I 'se present your Worship with a Tith-Pig or so March. You say well for that But hark you Sir you shall allow me two or three Quarters of Wheat every Christmas Hob. No no Sir. You shall not catch old Birds with Chaff Is it a Bargain Here 's my Money will you strike me Luck on 't March. Come give me your hand Mr. Parson It 's done Your Name is Mr. Richmond you say Hob. Yea Sir that 's