Morrall.
The World's the Witch, the Dogge is the Devill,
And men th' Actors, that have wrought this evill."
So famous was Boy, that the different newspapers gave his death as a special piece of intelligence [44]—"I may not omit to tell you that Prince Rupert lost his Bever, and his horse, and also his Dog was slain, and lay dead neere the Beanfield, where divers affirme the Prince hid himselfe, after a little service, till it was dark, and then he got to Yorke." Again [45]—"As for newes from the North, I heare it further confirmed, that the rumour which was here about Towne concerning Pr Ruperts hiding himselfe in a Beane field, and for which act hee is almost quite out of the Malignants bookes, is acknowledged to be most certaine, Nay, and I myselfe have heard it confessed from the mouths of some notorious Malignants: It had beene brave, with a blood hound there to have found him out, the plunderings, cruelties, Massacrings, rapes, and bloodshed, which lie upon his conscience, and which he cannot but beare about continually, must needs have yelded a strong scent to betray him unto revenge. But though his Necromantick Dogge, his Mephistophiles, was slaine, yet he seemes he made a shift to get secure into Yorke, and there to sweare the Townesmen into an opinion of his Victory." And in another newspaper [48] he is mentioned thus—"Amongst the dead Men and Horses which lay on the ground, wee found Prince Ruperts Dog killed. (This is onely mentioned by the way; because the Prince his Dog, hath been much spoken of, and was more prized by his Master than Creatures of much more worth.)"
A contemporary tract [46] (which is a dry political discussion, and has nothing whatever to do with the title-page) furnishes the accompanying engraving, which is exceedingly graphic. Here we again see poor Boy, exactly as described, lying "dead neere the Beanfield," which is represented with preraphaelite fidelity. It is also hinted at in the engraving which shows him being shot "by a Valliant Soulder, who had skill in Necromancy," but in this one is introduced the head of Prince Rupert, who is supposed to be there hiding.
His baggage fell into the hands of the victorious Parliamentarians, and the satirist cannot help having a fling at the Prince's Romish proclivities, as the contents of his sumpter horses' baggage shows bulls, crucifixes, images, a bell, etc. On this subject there is another satire [47]—"The Catholikes Petition to Prince Rupert," from which the accompanying engraving is taken.
But the Prince had another pet, a she monkey, and the satirist must needs make that inoffensive animal a mark at which to spit his spite, although nothing like the supernatural powers of Boy were attributed to her. There are two portraits extant of her, but I have only reproduced one, the dresses in both cases being precisely similar, and may probably represent her real costume [49]. In this tract she is described as—"I never saw such a strange fashioned creature in my life; for she hath a kind of Round-head as smooth as an apple, and if there be any Round-head this Munkey is one, her brow is low and wrinkled hanging over her little eyes; her nose thats flatt is very short, her cheekes are leane and lanke, and her thin lipps do hardly cover her teeth, the complection of her whole face is swarthy, cover'd with hayre greene as mosse, and lastly she hides her head in a black bagg, moreover she weares a greene or yellow gowne trimmed about with lace, & a girdle about her middle by the which she is fastned to the nave of a wheele, for the Prince is full of feares and Jelousies that if she were loose she would steale away into some wood and live there upon nutts and apples.... Thus P. Ruperts Monkey is a kind of old, little, wrinkled, old faced, petulant, wanton, and malignant gentlewoman ... that sometimes rides upon the beast that is Prince Rupert's dog....
Prince Rupert's Monkey is a toy,
That doth exceed his dog called Boy,
Which through dogged folly,
Both Barkes and Bites,
But this delights
The Prince when's melancholy.
He puts sweetemeats and sugar plumbs
Into his Monkey's toothlesse gums,
Which open like an oyster,
For he doth esteeme
A wench I meane,
More than a Nun in a Cloister."
The colour of her dress is also described in a tract, before quoted from [39]—"And Prince Roberts Monkey dare not come thither, lest the Parliaments Bitch should tear her green coat off from her back."
Her food is described in another tract [50]—"She would eat no oatmeal, nor lome of walls to cure her infirmitie, but the longest whitest sugar plums she could put into her mouth, were most delightfull to her taste, and had such a ravenous appetite to fruit that she would swallow all but the stones, and having gotten a delectable bit in her mouth, she would onely suck the juice out of it and then spit out the rest.... Moreover this Monkey was and is by nature a notable plunderer not onely of studdies and closets, into which, if she got, she would teare the books, spill the ink, and eat the sweetmeats."
This is about all I dare reproduce about this pet of Prince Rupert's, the remainder of these tracts being filled with political allusions, which are somewhat hard to be understood now, and of no interest to this book, the remainder being written somewhat more coarsely than usual. But enough has been said about them to show how the satirists of that age seized upon any thing which they could turn to their purpose.
[64] Memoirs of Prince Rupert and the Cavaliers, by Eliot Warburton. Lond. 1849.
[65] This is reproduced on p. 360 of "Chap Books of the 18th Century," by John Ashton. Lond. 1882.
[66] These italics are mine.
[51.]A Citizen for Recreations Sake
To see the Countrie would a journie make,
Some dozen mile, or little more,
Taking his leave of friends two months before;
With drinking healths, and shaking by the hand,
As he had travail'd to some new-found land.
Well, taking horse, with very much a doe,
London he leaveth for a day or two:
And as he rideth meets upon the way
Such (as what haste soever) bid men stay;
Sirrah (sayes one) stand, and your purse deliver;
I am a taker, you must be a giver.
Unto a wood hard by they hale him in,
And rifle him unto the very skin.
Masters (quoth he) pray heare me ere you goe,
For you have robbed more than you doe know:
My horse (in troth) I borrowed of my Brother,
The Bridle and the Saddle of another:
The Jerkin and the Bases[67] be a Taylers,
The Scarfe, I doe assure you, is a Saylers:
The Falling-band is likewise none of mine,
Nor Cuffes, as true as this good light doth shine:
The Sattin Doublet and the Velvet Hose,
Are our Church-wardens, all the parish knowes.
The Bootes are John the Grocers of the Swan,
The Spurs were lent me by a Serving-man:
One of my Rings, (that with the great red Stone)
Insooth I borrowed of my gossip Joane.
Her husband knowes not of it gentlemen,
Thus stands my case, I pray shew favour then.
Why (quoth the theeves) thou needst not greatly care,
Since in thy losse so many beare a share:
The world growes hard, many good fellows lack
Look not at this time for a penny back.
Goe tell at London, thou didst meet with four,
That rifling thee hath rob'd at least a score.
[67] The exact meaning of these garments seems to be in doubt. They were probably some kind of skirt.
The Connicatcher[68] and Priest of Paris.
[52.] A lewd knave, a Cheater, espied a wealthy Priest, whose purse was full of money, lately arrived in the City of Paris out of the Countrey to buy necessaries, and with a bold face saluted him, requested his aid in a small matter concerning a man of his own calling. What's that, (quoth the Priest?) It is, Sir, (quoth he) this. The Parson of our Towne hath given mee money to buy a Surplesse, and I, having small knowledge in it, would request your ayde in the Choyce of a good one, making no question of your good skill. With all my heart (quoth the Priest.)
Comming to the shop of sale, the Connicatcher called for some choyce Surplesses, and desired the Priest to choose out one of the best. Which done, intreated him to assay it, whether it were in all points as it ought to be. The Priest was nimble at his game, for it was his dayly exercise, but the Cheater found fault with the making, bearing out such an uncomly bulke at his right side. Oh (quoth the Priest) my girdle and pouch is cause of that, and immediately loosed his girdle and pouch, willing the Connicatcher to hold it till he had better girded up the Surplesse as it ought to be. The Connicatcher having as much as he desired suddenly leapt out of the shop and ranne away as fast as he could with the Priests girdle and pouch full of money. The Priest turning about, and seeing his purse and money flying for religion (sic) made all the haste he could in the Surplesse after the Connicatcher, crying and calling Hold the Theefe, Hold the Theefe, The Connicatcher cried out. Hold the Priest, for he is mad, and will kill me: the shopkeeper followed as fast as he could and cried, Stop the Priest, for he hath stolne my Surplesse. The people halfe amazed at this accident, laid hold on the Priest, but before he could declare his misfortune, the Connicatcher was gone far enough, not to be caught again in haste. Which caused much good laughter, and the Priest payed for the Surplesse.
[68] A sharper.
[12.]One askt a simpleton,
Pray what Countryman
Are you? says he, from the West;
By my troth says Hugh,
I do think so too,
All the wise Men come from the East.
On Bond the Usurer.
[24.]Here lyes a Bond under this tombe,
Seald and deliver'd to, god knows whom.
[17.] One that had sore eyes, was jeer'd by another that was clear ey'd; who told him they were not so sore, but that he could see a knave: It may be so, says he, but you must look in a Glass then.
[18.] A Citizen telling a Courtier that he had just then eased himself of a great Burden by paying a Debt he owed, and that he could not apprehend how any Man could sleep that was in Debt; For my part, answered the Courtier, I should rather wonder how my Creditors can sleep, well knowing that I shall never pay them.
[4.] A certain Knave asking a virtuous Gentlewoman, jearingly, What was honesty? she answered, What's that to you? Meddle with those things that concern you.
THE POETS DREAM[69]
OR,
The Great Out-cry and Lamentable Complaint
of the Land against
BAYLIFFS and their DOGS.
Wherein is Expressed their Villanous Out-rages to poor
Men; With a true Description of their
Knavery and their Debauch'd Actions; Prescribed
and Presented to the view of all People.
To the Tune of Sawny &c.
[53.]As I lay Slumbring in a Dream,
methought the world most strangely went;
The Bayliffs on High Seats was seen,
which caus'd the Poor's great discontent.
They pluckt true Justice from the Throne,
erecting Laws made of their own,
And burthen'd the Poor till they made them groan,
And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
Their Meeting house was an Ale-wives Bench,
fix'd in a Street that is termed Old;
Their Speaker was a Play-house-Wench
both —— and Thief, and a Devilish Scold.
Shee'd guzzel Brandy, Wine or Ale,
and then she'd at her Neighbours Rail,
And send for the Bayliffs to have them to Jayl,
And that's the cause &c.
Methoughts a mighty hunting-match,
was made by Bayliffs and their Currs:
Poor men was the Deer they strove to catch,
the Houses plac'd in the Room of Furrs:[70]
The Suburbs-Round, it was their Park,
the Bayliffs yell, the Dogs did Bark,
The Poor kept as close as Noah in the Ark,
And that's the Cause &c.
Then Shephard and his Dog wheel'd up to th' right,
and thunder'd by a Cursed Lane,
And there the Villains wrought their Spight,
for by them, once, was a poor Man slain.
They Swear, before they'l ever lack,
they'l go to Hell, a Pick-a Pack,
And thus poor Debters they go to rack,
And that's the Cause &c.
There's Cursing Will and Damme Jack,
and Robbin Tanner's alive agen,
And Paunchgut Tom, (a Hellish Pack),
with perjur'd Dick, and bawdy Ben:
Which formerly on Earth did Dwell,
and now they are return'd from Hell,
And doth against our Laws Rebell.
And that's the Cause &c.
When I awaked from my Dream,
methoughts the world turn'd upside down,
And in great haste, I Writ this Theam,
for the Bayliffs Doggs of our Town;
Who for their Pray each hour doe wait,
like Death at every poor Man's Gate,
And brings the Realm to a Dismal fate.
And that's the Cause &c.
When Poor men are out of Employ
and have not a Farthing in the World,
The while there Wives and Children cry,
there's many are in a Prison hurl'd:
Men are enticed by the Bumms,
who swear they ne'r will pay their Summs,
Thus Poor in Flocks to the Jaylor comes,
And that's the Cause &c.
The Tallyman, Curmudgeon, keeps
a Baylif and his Dog to Bite,
If in their Books, men ever Creeps,
they quickly swear they'l have their Right:
So soon as e're they do Back-slide,
the Torturing Jale they must abide
Then Toby and Dog's employ'd;
And that's the Cause &c.
When Rogues are at the Old Bayly Burn'd,
and that their Pilfering Trades do fail;
From Thieves to Bayliff's Dogs have turn'd,
to plague and hurry the Poor to Jayl:
How like Kid-nappers all the Day,
in every Corner they Survey,
And quaff whole Bowls when they get their way.
And that's the Cause &c.
Ten Groat's the Fees, and a Crown the arrest
and three Round OOO's for a Writ beside,
Thus Laws are broken, and poor men opprest,
such Racking torments they must abide.
And while the Prisoner sends for Bail,
they Tope the Brandy, Beer and Ale,
And makes him pay, or they have him to Jail.
And that's the Cause &c.
For Twenty Shillings, Ten or Five,
they'l put a man to a Cursed Charge;
Or run him to Jayl they'l soon contrive,
where other Bills are exprest at Large:
The Jayl Fees many are bound to Rue,
the Garnish, Bed and Turnkey too,
Expects an unexpected Due,
And that's the Cause &c.
Tis seldom a Bayliff or his Dog
is ever known for to go to Church;
As soon as they here the Word of God
they leave the Parson in the lurch:
They swear they'l come to Church no more,
they lay their sins to Adam's Score,
And jaunt to Moorfields to a ——,
And that's the Cause &c.
Thus I conclude and end my Song,
desiring that you wou'd be content;
There's Christian Peers that may right our wrong.
when Heaven yields up a Parliament:
I hope true Reason will plead our Cause,
while they'r erecting wholesome Laws
They'l keep us from the Crocodils paws,
and cease the Poor of the Land's Complaints.[71]
Printed for P. Brooksby at the Golden Ball near the Bear Tavern in Pye Corner.
[69] For tune, see [Appendix].
[70] Fir-trees.
[71] 16th Dec. 1671. See the Kings Bench Prisoners Thanks to his Majesty for their late Deliverance By his Majesties Most Gracious Act. (82. l.8)/53 s. sh. fol.
The dumbe wife recovered her speech.
[52.] A certaine Farmer had taken to wife a dumb woman, and hearing of a great Magician lately come into England, he tooke horse and rode to him, and demanded if there were no help for a woman that had lost her speech. The Magician answered, Yes, it is an easie matter, and told him hee must take an Aspen leafe, and lay it under her tongue, and it would instantly help her. The Farmer was joy'd with this tidings, and returned in haste homewards, suspecting in himselfe the vertue of his new receit, and therefore to make the matter more sure, he tooke three Aspen leaves, and laid them all three under his wifes tongue, who immediately began to talk and prate very nimbly, and in the end, upon a very small occasion to curse and raile downeright upon her husband, as if shee had beene mad. The Farmer was now in a peck of troubles, and posted in all hast to the Magician, certifying him of this unhappy accident. The Magician demanded if hee absolutely followed his counsell. The Farmer answered No, for (quoth he) instead of one leaf I have used three, hoping to make the matter surer. Marry then, God help thee, (quoth the Magician) for it is an easie matter to make a woman speak, but to make her hold her tongue is past my cunning. Nay, all the devills in Hell could never worke such a wonder. Whereat the Farmer much grieved, departed.
[32.] What is that the more ye lay on, the faster it wasteth?
Solution. That is a Whetstone, for the more ye whet the less is the Whetstone.
[51.]A Money Monger choyce of Sureties had;
A Countrey fellow plaine in Russet clad;
His doublet Mutton-taffety Sheep-skins,
His sleeves at hand button'd with two good pins;
Upon his head a filthy greasie Hat,
That had a hole eate thorou it by a Rat,
A Leather Pouch that with a Snap-hance shut,
One hundred Hobnailes in his Shooes were put:
The stockings that his Clownish legs did fit,
Were Kersie to the calfe, and t'other knit;
And at a word, th' apparell that he wore
Was not worth twelve pence, at Who gives more?
The other surety of another stuffe,
His neck inviron'd with a double Ruffe,
Made Lawne and Cambrick both such common ware,
His Doublet set had falling Band to spare;
His fashion new, with last Edition stood,
His Rapier Hilts imbru'd in golden blood:
And these same trappings made him seeme one sound,
To passe his credit for an hundred pound,
So was accepted; Russet coat deny'd,
But when time came the money should be pay'd,
And Monsieur Usurer did hunt him out,
Strange alteration struck his heart in doubt;
For in the Counter[72] he was gone to dwell,
And Brokers had his painted cloaths to sell;
The Usurer then further understands,
The Clowne (refus'd) was rich and had good lands;
Ready (through rage) to hang himselfe, he swore
That Silken Knaves should cozen him no more.
[72] See footnote, [ante] (F. 52).
[8.] A seaman coming before the Judges of the Admiralty for admittance into office in a ship bound for the Indies, was by one of the Judges much sleighted, as an insufficient person for that office which he sought for to acquire; till the Judge telling him that he believed that he could not say the points of his Compass; the Seaman answered, better than he could say his Pater Noster: The Judge replyed, that he would wager twenty shillings with him of that; so the Seaman taking him up, it came to trial, and the Seaman began and said all the points of his Compass very exactly; the Judge likewise said his Pater Noster, and when he had finished it, he required the wager according to the agreement, because the Seaman was to say his Compass better than he his Pater Noster, which he had not performed: nay hold, quoth the Sea man, the wager is not finished, for I have but half done; and so he immediately said his Compass backward very exactly, which the Judge failing of in his Pater Noster, the Seaman carried away the prize.
[12.]A Grave there was made
For one Aylet, he said
The Bell for him then did toul;
But you lye like a Knave,
It is not a Grave,
But only an Aylet hole.
[17.] One having a very great Nose, and thin beard, was told the shadow of his Nose did hinder his Beard's growth.
[26.] An Apothecary in Oxford spoke to a Country man by way of Jeer to bring him some live Rats, and he would give him eighteen pence a piece for them; and a fortnight after he brought them; and then the Apothecary told him, That he was provided the day before. The Country Fellow seeing he was abused, was resolved to be quit with him, saying, I am unwilling (seeing I have brought them) to carry them back again; and told him he would take three pence out in Physick at some time or other; and so opened his Bag, and let them about the Shop, which did so whisk up and down the Shelves, that in a little space they broke him about forty Pots and Glasses, and could never get rid of them since. Probatum est.
A Courtier and a Scholler meeting.
[5.]A Courtier proud walking along the Street,
Hap'ned by chance a Scholler for to meet,
The Courtier said, (minding nought more than place)
Unto the Scholler, meeting face to face,
To take the wall, base men Ile not permit,
The Scholler said, I will, and gave him it.
[4.] A Lady going to Mass to present her Tapers, fixed one to St. Michael, and another to the Devil that was at his Feet. The Clerk seeing her, told her she did not well to offer a Candle to the Devil. No matter, says the Lady, 'tis good to have Friends every where; for we know not where we shall go.
[8.] There was a gentleman fell very sick, and a friend of his said to him, Surely you are in danger, I pray you send for a Physician; but the sick man answered, It is no matter, for if I die I will die at leisure.
[51.]A wealthy Misers sonne, upon a day,
Met a poore Youth, that did intreat and pray
Something of Charitie in his distresse;
Helpe Sir (quoth hee) one that is Fatherlesse,
Sirrah (sayd hee) away, begone with speed,
Ile helpe none such; thou art a Knave indeed:
Dost thou complaine because thou wants a Father?
Were it in my case I would rejoyce the rather;
For if thy Father's death, cause thee repine,
I would my Father had excused thine.
The little Barly-Corne.[73]
Whose Properties and Vertues here,
Shall plainly to the world appeare,
And make you merry all the yeere.
To the tune of Stingo
[55.]Come, and doe not musing stand,
if thou the truth discerne,
But take a full cup in thy hand,
and thus begin to learne,
Not of the earth, nor of the ayre,
at evening or at morne,
But, joviale boyes, your Christmas keep
with the little Barly-Corne.
It is the cunningst Alchymist,
that ere was in the Land,
Twill change your Mettle when it list
in turning of a hand,
Your blushing Gold to Silver wan,
your Silver into Brasse,
Twill turn a Taylor to a man
and a man into an ass—
Twill make a poore man rich to hang
a signe before his doore,
And those that doe the Pitcher hang,
tho rich, twill make them poore;
Twill make the silliest poorest Snake[74]
the King's great Porter[75] scorne;
Twill make the stoutest Lubber weak,
this little Barley Corne.
It hath more shifts than Lambe[76] ere had,
or Hocus Pocus too,
It will good fellowes shew more sport
than Bankes[77] his horse could doe:
Twill play you faire above the boord,
unless you take good heed,
And fell you though you were a Lord,
and iustifie the deed.
It lends more yeeres unto old Age,
than ere was lent by Nature,
It makes the Poet's fancy rage,
more than Castalian water;
Twill make a Huntsman chase a Fox,
and never winde his Horn,
Twill cheere a Tinker in the stockes,
this little Barly-Corne.
It is the only Will o' th' wispe
which leades men from the way,
Twill make the tongue ti'd Lawyer lisp
and naught but (hic-up) say.
Twill make the Steward droope and stoop
his Bils he then will scorne,
And at each post cast his reckning up,
this little Barly-Corne.
Twill make a man grow jealous soone,
whose pretty Wife goes trim,
And raile at the deceiving Moone
for making hornes at him:
Twill make the Maidens trimly dance,
and take it in no scorne,
And helpe them to a friend by chance;
this little Barly-Corne.
It is the neatest Serving man
to entertaine a friend,
It will doe more than money can,
all iarring suits to end:
There's life in it, and it is here,
'tis here within this Cup,
Then take your liquor; doe not spare,
but cleare carouse it up.
If sicknesse Come, this Physick take
it from your heart will set it,
If feare incroach, take more of it,
your heart will soon forget it:
Apollo and the Muses nine,
doe take it in no scorne,
There's no such stuffe to passe the time,
as the little Barly-Corne.
Twill make a weeping Widdow laugh,
and some incline to pleasure;
Twill make an old man leave his staffe
and dance a youthfull measure:
And though your clothes be nere so bad,
all ragged, rent, and torne,
Against the Cold you may be clad
with the little Barly Corne.
Twill make a Coward not to shrinke,
but be as stout as may be,
Twill make a man that he shall thinke.
that Jone's as good as my Lady:
It will inrich the palest face,
and with Rubies it adorne,
Yet you shall thinke it no disgrace,
this little Barly Corne.
Twill make your Gossips merry,
when they their liquor see,
Hey, we shall nere be weary,
sweet Gossip, here's to thee:
Twill make the Country Yeoman
the Courtier for to scorne,
And talk of Law suits ore a Can,
with this little Barly Corne.
It makes a man that write cannot
to make you large Indentures,
When as he reeleth home at night,
upon the watch he ventures:
He cares not for the Candle light
that shineth in the horne,
Yet he will stumble the way aright,
this little Barly-Corne.
Twill make a Miser prodigall,
and shew himselfe kind hearted
Twill make him never grieve at all,
that from his Coyne hath parted:
Twill make a Shepheard to mistake
his Sheepe before a storme:
Twill make the Poet to excell,
this little Barly-Corne.
It will make young Lads to call
most freely for their Liquor,
Twill make a young Lass take a fall,
and rise againe the quicker:
Twill make a man that he
shall sleepe all night profoundly,
And make a man what ere he be
goe about his businesse roundly.
Thus the Barly-Corne hath power
even for to change our nature,
And make a Shrew within an houre,
prove a kind-hearted creature:
And therefore here I say againe
let no man tak't in scorne,
That I the vertues doe proclaim
of the little Barly-Corne.
Printed in London for E. B.
[73] For tune, see [Appendix].
[74] ?Sneak.
[75] William Evans, a Welshman in the service of Charles I. He was 7 ft. 6 in. high and at a masque at Whitehall drew Sir Jeffrey Hudson out of his pocket. There used to be a bas-relief over Bull's Head Court in Newgate Street, of "The King's Porter and Dwarf."
[76] Dr. John Lambe was an impostor who early in the 17th century practised fortune-telling, juggling, showing a magic crystal, and recovering stolen goods. He was indicted at Worcester for witchcraft, after which he removed to London, where he got into trouble, and he was finally pelted to death by an infuriated mob on 13th June 1628. There is a very rare pamphlet on this subject—"A brief description of the notorious life of John Lambe, otherwise called Dr. Lambe, together with his ignominious death, with a wood-cut of the populace pelting him to death in the City of London." 4o 1628.
[77] Banks was a Scotchman, and his performing horse had the rare honour of being alluded to by Shakspeare ("Love's Labour's Lost" Act i. s. 2). Moth says to Armado. "Why Sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here's three studied, ere you'll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put years to the word three, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you." The horse was certainly wonderfully trained, and is spoken of in Tarlton's Jests, as having picked him out as being the biggest fool in the company. His tricks were marvellous, but perhaps his most noted feat was riding up the steeple of St. Paul's in the year 1600. This feat is mentioned in the following books. Decker's Dead-Tearme—Owle's Almanack, 1618—The Meeting of Gallants at an Ordinarie, or the Walkes in Powles, 1604—The Blacke Booke, 1604—Northward Hoe, 1607—Rowley's Search for Money, 1609—Decker's Gul's Horn-book, 1609—and His Jests to make you merie, 1607. The horse afterwards went a continental trip, where he excited great wonder, and his high training was put down to witchcraft. Indeed a rumour was spread about that both he and his master were burnt for sorcery; but this was not so, for in Charles I.'s reign mention is more than once made of Banks being a vintner in Cheapside. The horse's name was Marocco, and there was a very curious book printed in 1595, called "Maroccus extaticus or Bankes Bay Horse in a Trance," etc.
The Tanner and the Butcher's dogge.
[52.] A Country Tanner that was runing hastily through Eastcheape and having a long Pike-Staffe on his shoulder, one of the Butchers dogs caught him by the breech. The fellow got loose, and ranne his pike into the Dogs throat, and killed him. The Butcher seeing that his Dog was kill'd tooke hold of the Tanner, and carried him before the Deputy, who asked him, What reason he had to kill the dogge? For mine owne defence (quoth the Tanner). Why, quoth the Deputy, hast thou no other defence but present death? Sir, quoth the Tanner, London fashions are not like the Countries, for here the stones are fast in the streets, and the Dogs are loose, but in the Country, the dogs are fast tied, and the stones are loose to throw at them; and what should a man do in this extremity, but use his staffe for his own defence? Marry (quoth the Deputy) if a man will needs use his staffe, he might use his blunt end, and not the sharp pike. True, Master Deputy, quoth the Tanner, but you must consider, if the Dog had used his blunt end, and runne his taile at me, then had there good reason for me to do the like; but I vow Master Deputy, the Dogge came sharpe at me, and fastned his teeth in my breech, and I again ranne sharp at him, and thrust my pike into his belly. By my faith a crafty knave, quoth the Deputy, if you will both stand to my verdict, send for a quart of wine, be friends, and so you are both discharged.
Cede majoribus.
[5.]I took the wall, one rudely thrust me by,
And told me the high way did open lye,
I thankt him that he would mee so much grace,
To take the worse and leave the better place.
For if by owners we esteem of things
The wall's the subject's, but the way the King's.
[32.] What is the most profitable beast, and that men eat least on? Solution. It is a Bee, for it maketh both hony and wax, and yet costeth his master nothing the keeping.
[12.]Mr. Button being dead,
He was so fat, one said
That his Grave was three foot o're;
Why, you talk like a Fool,
'Tis but a Button-hole
To Graves I have made before.
[54.] Act 1. s. 6. Dame Purecraft. Win the fight Littlewit (her daughter) John Little wit (a Proctor, Win's husband) Zeal of the land Busy (a Banbury[78] man suitor to Dame Purecraft.)
Purecraft. Now the blaze of the beauteous discipline, fright away this evill from our house! how now Win the fight, Child: how do you? Sweet child, speake to me.
Win. Yes forsooth.
Pure. Looke up, sweet Win the fight, and suffer not the enemy to enter you at this doore, remember that your education has bin with the purest; what polluted one was it, that nam'd first the uncleane beast, Pigge, to you, Child?
Win. Uh, uh.
John. Not I, o' my sincerity, mother; she long'd above three houres, ere she would let me know it; who was it Win?
Win. A prophane blacke thing with a beard, John.
Pure. O! resist it, Win the fight, it is the Tempter, the wicked Tempter, you may know it by the fleshly motion of Pig; be strong against it, and its foule temptations, in these assaults, whereby it broacheth flesh and blood, as it were, on the weaker side, and pray against its carnall provocations, good child, sweet child, pray.
John. Good mother, I pray you, that she may eate some Pigge, and her bellyfull too; and doe not you cast away your owne child, and perhaps one of mine, with your tale of the Tempter: how doe you, Win? Are you not sicke?
Win. Yes, a great deale John (uh, uh).
Pure. What shall we doe? call our zealous brother Busy hither, for his faithfull fortification in this charge of the adversary; childe, my dear childe, you shall eate Pigge; be comforted, my sweet childe.
Win. I,[79] but i' the Fayre, mother.
Pure. I meane i' the Fayre, if it can be any way made, or found lawfull; where is our brother Busy? Will hee not come? looke up, Child.
John. Presently, mother, as soone as he has cleans'd his beard. I found him fast by the teeth, i' the cold Turkey pye, i' th' cupbord, with a great white loafe on his left hand, and a glasse of Malmesey on his right.
Pure. Slander not the Brethren wicked one.
John. Here hee is, now, purified, Mother.
Pure. O brother Busy! your helpe heere to edifie, and raise us up in a Scruple, my daughter Win the fight is visited with a naturall disease of women; call'd A longing to eate Pigge.
John. I, Sir, a Bartholomew[80] pigge; and in the Fayre.
Pure. And I would be satisfied from you, Religiously-wise, whether a widdow of the sanctified assembly, or a widdowes daughter, may commit the act, without offence to the weaker sisters.
Busy. Verily, for the disease of longing, it is a disease, a carnall disease, or appetite, incident to women: and as it is carnall, and incident, it is naturall, very naturall: Now Pigge, it is a meat, and a meat that is nourishing, and may be long'd for, and so consequently eaten; it may be eaten; very exceeding well eaten; but in the Fayre, and as a Bartholomew-pig it can not be eaten, for the very calling it a Bartholomew-pigge, and to eate it so, is a spice of Idolatry, and you make the Fayre no better than one of the high Places. This, I take it is the state of the question. A high place.
John. I, but in a state of necessity, Place should give place Mr Busy. (I have a conceit left, yet)
Pure. Good brother Zeale of the land, thinke to make it as lawfull as you can.
John. Yes, Sir, and as soone as you can; for it must be, Sir; you see the danger my little wife is in Sir.
Pure. Truely, I doe love my child dearely, and I would not have her miscarry or hazard her first fruites if it might be otherwise.
Busy. Surely, it may be otherwise, but it is subject to construction, subject, and hath a face of offence, with the weake, a great face, a foule face, but that face may have a vaile put over it and be shaddowed, as it were, it may be eaten, and in the Fayre, I take it, in a Booth, the tents of the wicked: the place is not much, not very much, we may be religious in midst of the prophane, so it be eaten with a reformed mouth, with Sobriety, and humblenesse; not gorg'd in with gluttony, or greedinesse; there's the feare: for should she goe there, as taking pride in the place, or delight in the uncleane dressing, to feed the vanity of the eye, or the lust of the palat, it were not well, it were not fit, it were abominable, and not good.
John. Nay, I knew that afore, and told her on't, but courage, Win, we'll be humble enough; we'll seek out the homeliest Booth i' the Fayre, that's certaine; rather than faile, wee'll eate it o' the ground.
......
Busy. In the way of comfort to the weake, I will goe, and eat. I will eate exceedingly, and prophesie; there may be a good use made of it, too, now I thinke on't; by the publike eating of Swines flesh, to professe our hate, and loathing of Iudaisme, whereof the brethren stand taxed; I will therefore eate, yea, I will eate exceedingly.
[78] A synonym for a Puritan, as Butler says in Hudibras—
"Through Banbury I passed, O profane one,
And there I saw a Puritane one
Hanging of his Cat on Monday
For killing of a Rat on Sunday."
[79] I is frequently used for ay.
[80] It was the proper thing to eat roast sucking pig at Bartholomew fair.
Why women weare a fall.
[5.]A question 'tis why women weare a fall,
The truth it is to pride they are given all,
And pride the proverbe saies must have a fall.
[12.]A Gentleman did say
On the last Twelf-day,
That Cheese digests ev'ry thing;
Y'are dispos'd to jest,
And will ne're be at rest,
But at all will have a fling.
I'le say't o're agen
Nay, before any Men,
That it causes a good digestion;
You'l jest on still,
Let me say what I will,
Though you ne're are askt the Question.
[32.] What is it that goeth to the water, and leaveth its guts at home? Solution. It is a pillow beer,[81] for when it goeth to washing, the pillow and the feathers be left at home.
[81] Pillow case.
[17.] Two Widdows sitting by the fire, were chatting together of their dead Husbands; and one said, come, let us have another candle, for my poor Husband lov'd light, God send him Light ever lasting; and says the other; My poor Husband lov'd a good fire, I wish him Fire everlasting.
[26.] A Young Country Fellow went a Wooing to a Country Lass, and he had on then a speck and Span new Suit with Silver Buttons also; and in all his Discourse with her, he used all the Art he could, to have her take notice of his Buttons; at last when he saw she would take no Notice of them at all: Well, says he, these Silver Buttons keep me so warm: Yes, says she, you had best lie in them all night, lest you should take cold this frosty weather.