frets Caron is glad to see poor Maudlin mad And away his boat he gets Through the Earth through the Sea through unknown iles Through the lofty skies Have I sought with sobs and cryes For my hungry mad Tom and my naked sad Tom Yet I know not whether he lives or dies My plaints makes Satyrs civil The Nimphs forget their singing The Fairies have left their gambal and their theft The plants and the trees their springing Mighty Leviathan took a Consumption Triton broke his Organ Neptune despis'd the Ocean Flouds did leave their flowing Churlish winds their blowing And all to see poor Maudlins action The Torrid Zone left burning The Deities stood a striving Despised Iove from Iuno took a glove And strook down Ran from whistling Mars for fear lay couching Apollo's cap was fir'd Poor Charles his wain was thrown into the main The nimble Post lay tir'd Saturn Damas Vulcan Venus All lay husht and drunk Hells fire through heaven was rim Fates and men remorseless Hated our grief and hoâ—â—sness And yet not one could tell of Tom. Now whiâ—her shall I wander Or whiâ—her shall I flye The heavens do weep the earth the air the deeps Are wearied with my cry Let me up and steal the Trumpet That summons all to doom At one poor blast the Elements shall cast All creatures from her womb Dyon with his Heptune Death with destruction Stormy clouds and weather Shall call all souls together Against I find my Tomkin I le provide a Pumkin And we will both be blithe together A Song SIR Egley More that valiant Knight With his fa-la lanctre down dille He fetcht his sword and he went to fight With his fa-la and his lanctre down dille As he went over hill and dale All clothed in his coat of male With his fa-la his fa-la and his lanctre down dilleâ— A huge great Draggon leaps out of his den With his Which had kill'd the Lord knows how many men With his But when he saw Sir Egley More Good lack had you seen how this Draggon did 〈◊〉 With his This Draggon he had on a plaguy hide With his Which could both sword and spear abide With his He could not enter with hacks and cuts VVhich vext the Knight to the heart bloud and guts VVith his All the trees in the wood did shake VVith his Stars did tremble and man did quake VVith his But had you seen how the birds lay peeping T' would have made a mans heart to a fallen a weeping VVith his c. But now it was too late to fear VVith his For now it was come to â—ight dog fight bear VVith his And as a yawning he did fall He thrust his sword in hilts and all VVith his But now as the Knight in choller did burn With his He ow'd the Dragon a shrew'd good turn With his In at his mouth his sword he bent The hilt appeared at his fundament VVith his Then the Dragon like a Coward began to fly VVith his Unto his Den that was hard by With his And there he laid him down and roar'd The Knight was vexed for his sword With his The Sword it was a right good blade With his As ever Turk or Spaniard made With his I for my part do forsake it And he that will fetch it let him take it With his c. When all this was done to the Ale-house he went With his And by and by his two pence he spent VVith his For he was so hot with tugging with the Dragon That nothing could quench him but a whole Flagon VVith his Now God preserve our King and Queen VVith his And eke in London may be seen VVith his As many Knights and as many more And all so good as Sir Eglemore VVith his c. Cupid and the Clown AS Cupid took his bow and bolt Some birding for to find He chanced on a Country Swain Which was some Yeomans hinde Clown VVell met fair boy what sport abroad It is a goodly day The birds will â—it this frosty morn You cannot chuse but sâ—ay Go haste why Sir your eyes be out You will not bird I trow Alas go home or else I think The birds will laugh at you Cupid VVhy man thou dost deceive thy self Or else my mother lyes VVho said although that I were blind My arrowes might have eyes Clown VVhy then thy mother is a Voole And thou art but an elfe To let thy arrowes to have eyes And go without thy self Cup. Not â—o Sir Swain but hold your peace If I do take a shaft I 'le make thee know what I can do VVith that the plough-man laught The angry Cupid drew his bow Clo. For God sake kill me not Cup. I 'le make thy Leather-head to crake Clo. Nay childe be loath of that The stinging arrow hot the mark And pierc'd the silly soul You might know by his hollow eyes VVhether love had made the hole And â—o the Clown went bleeding home To stay it was no boot And knew that he could see to hiâ— VVhich could not see to shoot A Song SIr Francis Sir Francis Sir Francis his son Sir Robert and eke Sir William did come And eke the good Earl of Southampton March't on his way most gallantly And then the Queen began to speak You are welcome home Sir Francis Drake Then came my Lord Chamberlain and with his white staffe And all people began for to laugh The Queens Speech Gallants all of British bloud VVhy do not ye saile on th' Ocean flood I protest ye are not all worth a Philberd Compared with Sir Humphrey Gilberd The Queens Reason For he walkt forth in a rainy day To the new-found Land he took his way With many a gallant fresh and green He never come home agen God bless the Queen A Song O Thou that sleep'st like Pig in straw Thou Lady dear Arise Arise Arise Hoping to keep thy son in awe Thy little twinkling eyes And having stretcht both leg and arme Put on thy whiter smock And for to keep thy body warm Thy Peticoat and Dock The shops were open'd long ago And youngest Prentise go ho hoes To lay at 's Mistress chamber door His masters shining shoes Arise arise why should you sleep Since you have slept enough Long since French boyes cry'd Chimny-sweep And Damsels Kitchin-stuff A Song NOne but my self my heart do keep Aâ— I on Cowslip bed did sleep Near to a pleasant boge Where thou my pretty â—ogue With Knuckles knocking at my breast Did ask for my three-corner'd guest And whisphering said as soft as voice might be Come forth thou little rogue to me A thousand thousand fiends as black as foot With all their dirty damms to boot Take thee O take thee every day For stealing I and my poor heart away This heart of mine for joy did leap And follow'd thee even step by step Till tired at the last 't was thick and plump and round before Weighing a full pound weight and more And now it 's sunk unto the
skin And is no bigger than head of pin A thousand thousand fiends as black as â—oot With all their durty damms to boot A Song ANdrew and Maudlin Rebecca and Will Margret and Thomas and Iocky and Mary Kate of the Kitchin and Kit of the mill Dick the plow-boy and Ioan of the Dairy To solace their lives and to sweeten their labor They met on a time with a pipe and a tabor Andrew was clothed in shepherds gray And Will had put on his holiday-Jacket Beck had a Peticoat of Popinjay And Meg had a Ribbond hung down to her placket Meg and Molly in frize Tom and Iackie in leather And so they began to foot it together Their head and their arms about them they flang With all the might and the force that they had Their legs were like flails and as loosly hang For they cudgel'd their arses as if they 'd been mad Their faces did shine and their fires did kindle And here they did trip it and turn like a spindle Andrew chuckt Maudlin under the chin Simper she did like a Furmity-kettle The sound of her blober-lips made such a din As if her chops had been made of bell-mettle Kate laughing heartily at the same smack She presently answers it with a bum-crack At no Whitson-ale was ever yet seen Such friskers and frekers as those lads and lasses The sweat it run down their face to be seen And sure much more run down from their arses Nay had you been there you might well have sworn You had ne're beheld the like since you were born Here they did fling and there they did hoyt Here a hot breath and there went a savour Here they did glance and there they did lout Here they did simper and there they did slabor Here was a hand and there was a â—lacket While their skirts and their breeches went a â—â—â—ket a flacket The Dance being ended they sweat and they stank The maidens did smerk and the young men did kiss 'um Cakes and ale flew about they clapt hands and they drunk They laught and they giggl'd untill they bepist 'um Thus every young man gave each a greene mantle While their breasts and their bellies went a pintle-te pantle The Ghost 1. T Is late and cold stir up the fire Sit close and draw the table nigher Be merry and drink wine that is old A hearty medicine 'gainst the cold 2. Your beds of wanton flesh the best Come ye and tumble to your rest I could well wish you wenches to But I am dead and cannot do 3. Call for the best till the house doth ring Sack VVhite Claret let them bring And tope apace whilst breath you have You I find but cold drink in the grave 4. Partriges Plovers for your dinner And a Capon for the sinner You shall have ready when you are up And your horse shall have his sup Welcom welcom shall flye round And I will laugh though under ground The Priests Anthem DEus deus meus Alta luce vigilo In veritatibus There was a Fryer of the sconce And he could not say his Skence He laid the maid down upon suspence O it was for little good His name was Little Sir Walter And he could not say his Psalter But stood quivering behind the altar Yet Lord how his man-Kellam stood Onus unus verbum omnibus Fryer Thomas came to Ninus Desiring her to do him a pleasure O good Sir quoth she I 'le tell you most certainly When you shall find me at leisure Then he took her up in his armibus And he carried her into a cornibus At the farther end of all the Cloyster He laid her down upon her bum Ovis in nobis profectum And there he opened hed Oyster The Huntsman 1. OF all the sports the world doth yield Give me a pack of hounds in field Whose eccho sounds shrill through the sky Makes Iove admire our harmony And wish that he a mortal were To see such pleasures we have here 2. Some do delight in Masks and Playes And in Diana's Holy dayes Let Venus act her chiefest skill If I dislike I 'le please my will And choose such as will last And not to surfeit when I tast 3. Then I will tell you a sent Where many a horse was almost spent In Chadwel Close a hare we found That led us all a smoking round O're hedge and ditch away she goes Admiring her approaching foes 4. But when she felt her strength to waste She parlyed with the hounds in haste The Hare You gentle dogs forbear to kill A harmless beast that ne'r did ill And if your masters sport do crave I 'le lead a sent as they would have 5. The Hounds Away away thou art alone Make haste we say and get thee gone We 'l give thee leave for half a mile To see if thou canst us beguile But then expect a thundering cry Made by us and our company 6. The Hare Then since you set my life so light I 'le make Black lovely turn to white And York-shire Gray that runs at all I 'le make him wish in his stall And Sorrel he that seems to fly I 'le make him sickly e're he die 7. Let Burham Bay do what he can And Barton Gray which now and than Doth strive to winter up my way I 'le neither make him sit nor play And constant Robin though he lie At his advantage what care I 8. But here Kit Bolton did me wrong As I was running all along For with one pat he made me so That I went reeling too and fro Then if I die your masters tell That fool did ring my passing-Bell 9. But if your masters pardon me I 'le lead them all to Througabby Where constant Robin keeps a room To welcome all the Guests that come To laugh and quaff in Wine and Beer A full Câ—rouze to their Career 10. The Hounds Away away since 't is our nature To kill thee and no other creature Our masters they do want a bit And thou wilt well become the spit They eat the flesh we pick the bone Make haste we say and get thee gone 11. The Hare Your masters may abate their chear My meat is dry and Butter dear And if with me they 'de make a friend They had better give a pudding's end Besides once dead then sport they 'l lack And I must hang on the Huntsman's back 12. The Hounds Alas poor Hare we pity thee If with our nature 't would agree But all thy doubling shifts we fear Will not prevent thy death so near Then make thy Will for it may be that May save thee else we know not what 13. Then I do give my body free Unto your masters courtesie And if they 'l spare till sport be scant I 'le be their game when they do want But when I 'm dead each greedy hound Will trail my entrails on the ground 14. VVere ever dogs so basely crost Our masters call us off so fast That we the
But stay my frighted Muse is fled My self through fear crept under bed For just as pen would scribble more Fierce City Dun did rap at door A SONG 1. POx take you Mistris I 'le be gone I have freinds to wait upon Think you I 'le my self confine To your humours Lady mine No your louring seems to say 'T is a rainy drinking day To the Taverne I 'le away 2. There have I a Mistress got Cloystered in a Pottle pot Brisk and sprightly as thine Eye When thy richest glances fly Plump AND bounding lively faire Bucksome soft and debonaire And she 's call'd Sack my DEARE 3. Sack 's my better Mistriss farr Sack my onely beauty starre Whose rich beames and glorious raie Twinkle in each red rose and face â—hould I all her vertues show Thou thy self wouldst love-sick prove AND shee 'd prove thy Mistress TOO 4. She with no dartscorne will blast me But upon thy Bed can cast me Yet nere blush her self too red Nor fear of loss of Maiden-head And she can the truth to say Spirits into me convey MORE then thou canst take AWAY 5. Getting kisses here 's no toyle Here 's no Handkerchif to spoile Yet I better Nectar sip Then dwel upon thy lip And though mute and still she be Quicker wit she brings to me THEN e're I could finde in THEE 6. â—f I go nere think to see Any more a foole of me â—'le no liberty up give Nor a Maudlin-like Love live No there 's nought shall win me to 't T is not all thy smiles can do 't Nor my Maiden head to BOOT 7. Yet if thou 'lt but take the paine TO be good but once againe If one smile then call me back THOU shalt be that Lady Sack Faith but try and thou shalt see What a loving Soule I 'le be WHEN I am Drunk with nought but thee The Answer 1. I Pray thee Drunkard get thee gone Thy Mistresse Sack doth smell too strong Think you I intend to wed A sloven to be-piss my bed No your staining mee 's to say You have been drinking all this day Goe begon away away 2. Where you have your Mistress Sack Which hath already spoil'd your back And methinks should be to hot To be cloystered in a pot Though you say she is so faire So lovely and so debonair She is but of a yellow haire 3. â—ack's awhore which burnes like fire â—ack consumes and is a dryer And her waies do onely tend To bring men unto their end â—hould I all her vices tell Her rovings and her swearings fell â—hou wouldst dam her into Hell 4. â—ack with no durt scornes will blast thee â—ut upon thy Bed still cast thee â—nd by that impudence doth show â—hat no vertue she doth know â—or she will the truth to say â—hy body in an hour decay More then I can in a day 5. â—hough for kisses there 's no toyle â—et your body She doth spoile â—â—pping Nectar whilst you sit â—he doth quite besot your wit â—hough she is mute shee 'l make you loud â—rawl and fight in every crowd â—hen your reason she doth clould 6. Nor do thou ever look to see Any more a smile from me I 'le no liberty nor signe Which I truely may call mine No no slight shall win me to 't 'T is not all thy parts can do 't Thy Person nor thy Land to boot 7. Yet if thou wilt take the paine To be Sober once again And but make much of my back I will be in stead of Sack Faith but try and thou shalt see What a loving Soul I 'le be When thou art drunk with nought but me I Had a Love and she was chast Alaâ—k the more 's the pity But wot you how my Love was chast She was chast quite through the City Upon a Priest that lyes buried in Wells A Priest there was of Wellis Where was tinkled a great many Bellies And in concordance He plaid well on the Organce And he was an excellent singer And in the world not such a ringer A SONG WHen Vertue was a Countrey maid And had no skill to â—et up trade Was brought to Town by a Carriers jade That stood at rack and manger She took her Whiffe she drank her Can The Pipe was nere out of her span She married a Tobacco man A stranger She set up a Shop in Honey lane Whereto the flies did flock amaine Some flew from France and some from Spaine Brought by the English Pander But when the Honey pot grew dry And Winter came the Flies must dye Her Husband he was forst to flie From Flanders A Scholers answer to one that sent to borrow his Horse RIght Worshipfull Frank I humbly thee thank For the kindness received of late Ingratitutde sure I cannot indure 'T is a vice that I utterly hate I hear you provide a journey to ride If any would lend you a Gennit I protest before God mine 's all gone abroad And won't be at home this sennight But yet my kind Francis if that it so chances That a Horse you needs must hire If your business be hasty I 'le lend you my Masty To carry you out of the mire 'T is a dainty fine cur You need not him spur If you his conditions but knew For hee 'l prance and hee 'l gape When he carries my Ape Much more when he carries you A SONG 1. THere was an old Lad rode on an old Pad Unto an old punk a woing He laid the old punk upon an old trunk Oh there was good old doing 2. There was an old maid scarce sweet as they said In a place I dare not make mention She in an old humour lay with a Perfumer Oh there was a sweet invention 3. The Punk and the Maid they swear they said That Marriage was servillity If Marry you must for changing of Lust Oh well fare a trick of nullity 4. There was a mad man did study to frame â— Device to draw up a prespuce She drew up so narrow a Car might go through Oh there was a slender sluce 5. Her Earle did appoint her she said such a Joiâ—â—ture As was of no vallidity Above twise in a Night he did her no right Oh there was a strange frigidity 6. But when as her Earle had another girle His wimble did pierce her flanke His Nag prov'd able by changing of stable Oh there was a quod ad hanc 7. This dame was inspected by fraud interjected held the candle A maid of more perfection Whom the Midwives did handle while the K nt Oh there was a clear inspection 8. Now as forraign writers cry out of their miters That allow this for a virginity And talke of Election and waul of Election Oh there was a sound Divinity 9. There was a young Lord assumed on his word That he would be a Parliament maker But see how things alter he assumed a halter Oh there was an undertaker 10. He had a sweet freind which he did comend To the
keeping of sweet Sir Iarvis They gave him a Clister made his belly to blisteâ—â— Oh there was a sweet piece of service 11. â—his freind he denied and would not abide A Marrige that so would shame us â—etween this sweet Matron this grave Patron Oh Patron of Ignoramus 12. Now Weston and Horn and Turner do turn And say that this plot was fraude These may say their pleasure some think hard measure Oh knaves and Punkes and Bawds A SONG THou Shephard whose intentive eye On every Lambe is such a spie No willy foe can make them less Where may I find my Sheaperdess A little pausing then said he How can this Jewel stay from thee â—n Summers heat in winters cold â— thought thy brest had been her folde It is indeed the constant place Wherein my thoughts still see her face And print her Image in my heart But yet my fond eyes crave a part With that he smiling said I might Of Cloaris party have a sight And some of her perfections meet In every flower that 's fresh and sweet That growing Lilly weares her skin The Violet her blew veines within The Damaske Rose now blown and spread Her sweeter cheeks her lips as red The winds that wanton with the Spring Such Odors as her breathings bring But the resemblance of her eyes Was never found beneath the skies Her charming voice who strives to fit His object must be higher yet For Heavens Earth and all we see Disperst collected is but she A maide at this discourse methoughts Love both ambition in me wrought And made me covet to ingross A wealth would prove a publick loss With that I sighth ashamed to see Such worth in her such want in mee Closing both mine eyes forbid The world my sight since she was hid A Song To the Tune of Packingtons Pound 1. MY masters and friends and good people draw near And look to your Purses for that I do say And though little mony in them you do wear It cost more to get than to lose in a day You oft have been told Both the young and the old And bidden beware of the Cut-purse so bold Then if you take heed not free me from this curse Who both give you warning for and the Cut-purse Youth youth thou hadst better been sterv'd by thy Nurse Then live to be hanged for cutting a purse 2. It hath been upbraided to men of my Trade That oft-times we are the cause of this crime Alack and for pity why should it be said As if they regarded or places or time Examples have been Of some that were seen In Westminster Hall yea the Pleaders between Then why should the Judges be free from this curse More than my poor self for cutting the purse Youth youth c. 3. At Worcester 't is known well and even i'th'Jayl A Kt. of good worth did there shew his face Against the frail sinner in rage for to rail And lost ipso facto his purse in the place Nay ev'n from the seat Of Judgment so great A Judge there did lose a fair purse of Velvet O Lord for thy mercy how wicked or worse Are those that so venture their necks for a purse Youth youth c. 4. At Playes and at Sermons and at the Sessions 'T is daily their practice such booty to make Yea under the Gallows at Executions They stick not they stare about purses to take Nay one without Grace At a better place At Court and in Christmas before the Kings face Alack then for pity must I bear the curse That onely belong to the cunning Cut-purse Youth youth c. 5. But O you vile nation of Cut-purses all Relent and repent and amend and be â—ound And know that you ought not by honest mens fall To advance your own fortunes to dye above ground And though you go gay In Silks as you may It is not the high-way to Heaven as they say Repent then repent you for better for worse And kiss not the Gallows for cutting a purse Youth youth thou hadst better been sterv'd by thy nurse Then live to be hanged for cutting a purse To the Tune of I wail in wo I plunge in pain OR LABANDOLA shot Verse 1. IN Cheapside famous for Gold and Plate Quicksilver I did dwell of late I had a master good and kind That would have wrought me to his mind He bade me still work upon that But alas I wrought I knew not what He was a Touch-stone black but true And told me still what would ensue Yet wo is me I would not learn I saw alas but covld not discern Verse 2. I cast my Coat and Cap away I went in Silks and Sattens gay False mettal of good manners I Did daily coyne unlawfully I scorn'd my master being drunk I kept my Gelding and my Punk And with a Knight Sir Flash by name Who now is sorry for the same Verse 3. Still Eastward-Hoe was all my word But Westward I had no regard Nor ever thought what would come after As did alas his youngest Daughter At last the black Oxe trod on my foot I saw then what belong'd unto 't Now cry I Touch-stone touch me still And make me current by thy skill Verse 4. O Manington thy stories show Thou cut'st a Horse head off at a blow But I confess I have not the force For to cut off the head of a Horse Yet I desire this grace to win That I may cut off the Horse head of sin And leave his body in the dust Of sins high-way and bogs of lust Whereby I may take Vertue 's purse And live with her for better for worse Verse 5. Farewel Cheapside farewel sweet Trade Of Goldsmiths all that never shall fade Farewel dear Fellow-prentises all And be you warned by my fall Shun Usurers bonds and Dice and Drabs Avoid them as you would French scabs Seek not to go beyond your teacher And cut your thongs unto your leather So shall you thrive by little and little Scape Tyburn Counters and the Spittle A Song 1. LAdies here I do present you With a dainty dish of fruit The first it was a Poplin Pear 'T was all the fruit the tree did bear You need not pare it any whit But put it all in at a bit And being let a while to lye 'T will melt 't will melt 't will melt most pleasantly 2. The next in order you shall have A rich Potata and a brave Which being laid unto the fire God Cupid kindles to desire For when 't is baste with little cost 'T will baste it self when it is rost It needs no sugar nor no spice 'T will please a stomach nere so nice 'T will make a maid at midnight cry It comes it comes it comes it comes most pleasantly 3. The next by lot as doth befall Is two handfuls of Roundsefals Which Priamus the Garden god Made Venus eat within the Cod You must not prune too much at first For if you do tears out will