Selected quad for the lemma: england_n
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A12296
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Elynour Rummin, the famous ale-wife of England. Written by Mr. Skelton, Poet Laureat to King Henry the egiht [sic].; Tunnyng of Elynour Rummyng
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Skelton, John, 1460?-1529.
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1624
(1624)
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STC 22614; ESTC S111024
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5,588
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18
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ELYNOVR RVMMIN The famous Ale-wife of England Written by Mr. Skelton Poet Laureat to King Henry the egiht When Skelton wore the Lawrell Crowne My Ale put all the Ale-wiues downe LONDON Printed for Samuel Rand. 1624. SKELTON'S GHOST TO all Tapsters and Tiplers And all Ale-house Vitlers Inne-keepers and Cookes That for pot-sale lookes And will not giue measure But at your owne pleasure Contrary to Law Scant measure will draw In Pot and in Canne To cozen a Man Of his full Quart a penny Of you there 's to many For in King Harry's time When I made this Rime Of Elynor Rumming With her good Ale tunning Our Pots were full quarted We were not thus thwarted With froth-Canne and nick-pot And such nimble quick-shot That a dowzen will score For twelue pints and no more Full Winchester gage We had in that age The Dutchmans strong Beere Was not hopt ouer heere To vs 't was vnknowne Bare Ale of our owne In a Bowle we might bring To welcome the King And his grace to beseech With Wassall my Leigh Nor did that time know To puffe and to blow In a peece of white clay As you doe at this day With fier and coale And a leafe in a hole As my Ghost hath late seene As I walked betweene Westminster Hall And the Church of Saint Paul And so thorow the Citie Where I saw and did pitty My Countrymens cases With fiery-smoke faces Sucking and drinking A fylthie Weede stinking Was ne're knowne before Till the Deuill and the More In th' Indies did meete And each other there greete With a health they desire Of stinke smoake and fier But who e're doth abhorre it The Citie smoakes for it Now full of fier shops And fowle spitting chops So neesing and coughing That my Ghost fell to scoffing And to my selfe said Here 's filthy fumes made Good Physicke of force To cure a sicke horse Nor had we such slops And shagge-haire on our tops At wearing long haire King Harry would sweare And gaue a command With speede out of hand All heads should be powl'd Aswell young as old And his owne was first so Good ensample to show Y' are so out of fashion I know not our Nation Your Ruffes and your Bands And your Cuffes at your hands Your Pipes and your smokes And your short curtall Clokes Scarfes Feathers and Swerds And thin bodkin Beards Your Wastes a span long Your knees with points hung Like Morris-daunce Bels And many toyes els Which much I distaste But Skelton's in haste My Masters Farewell Reade ouer my Nell And tell what you thinke Of her and her drinke If shee had brew'd amisse I had neuer wrote this THE TVNNING OF ELYNOVR OF RVMMING TEll you I chill if that you will A While be still of a merry Gyll That dwelt on a Hill but she is not grill For she is somwhat sage well worne in age For her visage it would asswage A mans courage Her lothly leere is nothing cleere But vgly of cheere droupy and drowsie Scuruy and lowsie her face all bowsie Comely cryncled wondrously wrinckled Like a roast Pigges eare bristled with haire Her lewd lips twaine they slauer men sayne Like a ropie rayne A gummy glaire she is vgly faire Her Nose somedeale hooked and camously crooked Neuer stopping but euer dropping Her Skin loose and slacke grain'd like a sacke With a crooked backe Her Eyne gowndy are full vnsoundy For they are bleared and she gray-haired Iawed like a Ietty a man would haue pitty To see how shee 's gumd fingerd and thumbd Gently ioynted greas'd and annointed Vp to the knuckels the bones her buckels Together made fast her youth is farre pâ—st Footed like a plane legg'd like a Crane And yet she will iet like a iolly set In her furred flocket and gray ruâ—â—ed rocket With symper the cocket Her Huke of Lyncolne greene it had bin hâ—â—â— I weene More then fortie yeare and so it doth appeare The greene bare threeds looke like feere weedes Witherd like hay the wooll worne away And yet I dare say she thinkes her selfe gay Vpon the holyday when she doth her aray And girdeth in her geetes stitched with pleetes Her Kirtill Brisâ—ow red with clothes on her hed That waigh a sow of lead Writhen in a wonder wise after the 〈◊〉 guise With a whim wham knit with a trim tram Vpon her brain-pan like an Egyptian Capped about when she goeth out Her selfe for to shew she driueth downe the dew With a paire of heeles at broad as two wheeles Shee hobbles like a Goose with her blauked hose Her 〈◊〉 smeard with tallow greased vpon dyrt That â—â—â—deth her skirt Primus Passus And this comely dame I vnderstand her name Is Elynour Rumming at home in her wonning And as men say she dwelt in Sothray In a certaine steed beside Lâ—derhede Shee is a Tonnish gib the deuill and she be sib But to make vp my tale shee brueth nappy ale And makes thereof pot-sale To Trauellers and Tinkers to sweaters and swinkers And all good-Ale drinkers that will nothing spare But drinke till they stare and bring themselues bare With now away the Mare and let vs sley care As wise as an hare Come who so will to Elinour on the hill With fill the cup fill and sit thereby still Early and late thither comes Kate Cisly and Sare with their legs bare And also their feete hardly vnsweet With their heeles dagged their kirtles all to iagged Their smockes all to ragged With titters and tarters bring dishes and platters Withall their might running to Elinour Rumming To haue of her Tunning Shee giues them of the same and thus begins the game Some wenches vnbraced and some all vnlaced With their naked paps their flips and flaps It wigs and it wags like tawny saff'ron bags A sort of foule drabs all scuruie with scabss Some be flye-bitten some skew'd like a kytten Some with a shoe-clout binde their heads about Some haue no haire-lace their lockes about their face Their tresses vntrust all full of vnlust Some looke strawry some cawry mawry Some vntydie tegges like rotten egges Such a lewd sort to Elinour resort From tide to tide abide abide And to you shall betold how her Ale is sold To Mawte and to Mold Secundus Passus Some haue no money that thither commy For their Ale to pay that is a shrewd aray Elinour sweares nay ye beare not away My Ale for nought by him that me bought With hey dogge hey haue these dogges away With get me a staffe the swine eat all my draffe Strike the Hogs with a club they haue drunke vp my tub For be there neuer so much prese the swine go to the hy dese The sow with her pigges the bore his taile wrigges Against the high bench with fough here 's a stench Gather vp then wench seest thou not what 's fall Take vp dirt and all and beare out of the hall God giue it ill preeuing clenly as euill chieuing But let