The Astrologer's Bugg Beare.

[64.] In his little tract he chaffs the people most unmercifully, yet very quietly, at times so much so that one might almost think it written in earnest. For instance: "A Usurer that was to receive money of a country man that was his debter on that day, durst not to venter fourth of his house; by which meanes the man rid forth out of London and paid not in his moneyes, for which cause the Usurer was about to cut his own throat, and had don it, if he had not bin prevented by some of his Neighboures.

Some other Christians were so fearefull of what would befall, that they sent their maids two dayes before Black monday for to fetch in faire water in a redynesse to wash, fearing that the ayre would infect the water.

Some tooke Medicines, Pils, and Antidotes, which was administred unto them by a supposed out landish doctor, which he had set bils for in severall places, caling his Medicines, an Antidote against the tirrible Eclipes of the Sun, so he got money, and they went away as wise as woodcockes."

Ben Jonson, in "The Alchemist" gives a very vivid and amusing picture of an astrologer and his gull. Act 1, Scene 3. Subtle (the astrologer), Face (his agent), Drugger (a tobacconist).

[65.]Subtle. What is your name, say you, Abel Drugger?

Drugger. Yes Sir,

Sub. A Seller of Tobacco?

Dru. Yes, Sir

Sub. 'Umh,

Free of the Grocers?[⁹⁶]

Dru. I, and't please you.

Sub. Well,

Your business Abel?

Dru. This, and't please your Worship,
I am a yong beginner, and am building
Of a new shop, and't like your worship, just
At Corner of a Street: (Here's the plot on't.)
And I would know, by art, Sir, of your Worship,
Which way I should make my dore, by Necromancie.
And where my Shelves. And which should be for Boxes,
And which for Potts. I would be glad to thrive, Sir,
And, I was wish'd to your Worship by a Gentleman,
One Captaine Face, that say's you know mens Planets,
And their good Angels, and their bad.

Sub. I doe

If I do see 'hem.[⁹⁷]

Face. What! my honest Abel?

Thou art well met here.

Dru. Troth, Sir, I was speaking
Just as your Worship came here, of your Worship.
I pray you, speake for me to M^r Doctor.

Face. He shall doe anything. Doctor, doe you heare?
This is my friend, Abel, an honest fellow.

......

Sub. H'is a fortunate fellow, that I am sure on.

Face. Already, Sir, ha' you found it? Lo' the Abel!

Sub. And in right way to'ward riches.

Face. Sir!

Sub. This Summer
He will be of the Clothing [⁹⁸] of his Company.
And, next spring, call'd to the Scarlet.[⁹⁹] Spend what he can.

Face. What, and so little Beard?

Sub. Sir, you must thinke,
He may have a receipt to make hayre come.
But he'll be wise, preserve his youth, and fine [¹⁰⁰] for't.
His fortune lookes for him, another way.

Face. 'Slid, Doctor, how canst thou know this so soone?
I am amus'd at that!

Sub. By a rule, Captayne
In Metaposcopie which I doe worke by,
A certaine Starre i' the forehead, which you see not.
Your Chest-nut, or your Olive colourd face
Do's never fayle; and your long Eare doth promise.
I knew't, by certaine spotts too, in his teeth,
And on the nayle of his Mercurial finger.

Face. Which finger's that?

Sub. His little finger, Looke.
Yo' were borne upon a Wensday.

Drug. Yes, indeed, Sir.

Sub. The Thumbe, in Chiromantie, we give Venus;
The Fore-finger to Iove; the Midst, to Saturne;
The Ring to Sol, the Least to Mercurie,
Who was the Lord, Sir, of his Horoscope,
His House of Life being Libra. Which foreshew'd
He should be a Marchant, and should trade with Ballance.

Face. Why, this is strange! Is't not, honest Nab?

Sub. There is a Ship now, comming from Ormu's,
That shall yeeld him such a Commoditie
Of Drugs. This is the West, and this the South?

Drug. Yes Sir.

Sub. And those are your two sides!

Drug. I, Sir.

Sub. Make me your Dore, then, South; your broad side, West;
And, on the East-side of your shop, aloft,
Write Mathlaj, Tarmiel, and Baraborat;
Upon the North-part Rael, Velel, Thiel,
These are the names of those Mercurian Spirits,
That doe fright flyes from boxes.

Drug. Yes Sir,

Sub. And
Beneath your threshold, bury me a Loade stone
To draw in Gallants that weare spurres; The rest
Theyll seeme to follow.

In this play, too, Alchemy is scarified, as is also the Puritanism of the age.

[⁹⁵] Brit. Mus. Cat. (E. 1351.)/1

[⁹⁶] Company.

[⁹⁷] A play upon the word. Subtle meaning the gold coin called an Angel, value 10s.

[⁹⁸] i.e. be made a liveryman.

[⁹⁹] Made sheriff.

[¹⁰⁰] Pay the penalty instead of serving.

[12.]A very drunken Sot

The Hickock had got,

Cause he drank Rosa Solis and Aqua Vitæ;

Such Latine drink that he

Declines Hic, Hoc, very free,

But such English words as wou'd fright ye.

[52.] A poore man travelling from door to door a begging, being lately come from Paris, a City in France, being invited by hunger to a good simple Country Swain's doore, to aske his almes; his wife asked him what he was, and from whence he came? Quoth the fellow, from Paris. From Paradise (quoth she) then thou knowest my old John there (meaning her former husband) I, quoth the fellow, that I doe. I pray thee (quoth she) how doth he doe? Faith (quoth the fellow) poore, he hath meat and drinke enough, but wants cloathes and mony. Alas, quoth she, I am sory for it, I pray thee stay a little; and, running up into her Chamber, fetcht downe her husbands new sute of cloathes, and five shillings in mony, and gave it to the fellow, saying, I pray thee remember me to my poore John, and give him this sute of clothes, and five shillings from me, and wrapt them up in a Fardle,[¹⁰¹] which the fellow took, and away he went. Presently her husband came home, and found her very pleasant and merry, singing up and downe the house, which she seldome used to doe, and he asked her the cause, Oh, husband, quoth she, I have heard from my old John to-day, he is in Paradise, and is very well, but wants clothes and mony, but I have sent him thy best sute, and five shillings in mony. Her husband seeing she was cozened, enquired of her which way the fellow went that had them. Yonder way, quoth she: he presently took his best horse, Hob, and rode after him for the clothes. The fellow seeing one ride so fast after him, threw the clothes into a ditch, and went softly forward; her husband overtaking the fellow, said, Didst not see one go this way with a little fardle of clothes at his back? Yes, quoth the fellow, he is newly gone into yonder little Wood. Oh, hold my horse, quoth he, whilst I runne in and finde him out. I will, quoth the fellow, who presently, as soon as he was gone into the wood, took up his fardell, leapt on horseback, and away he went: The Man returning for his horse, his horse was gone; then going home to his wife, she asked him if he overtook the fellow. I, sweet heart, quoth he, and I have lent him my best horse to ride on, for it is a great long way to Paradise. Truly, husband, quoth she, and I shall love thee the better so long as I live, for making so much of my old John. Which caused much good laughter to all that heard it.

[¹⁰¹] A bundle.

[5.]Tom vow'd to beat his boy against the wall,

And as he strucke, he forth-with caught a fall:

The boy deriding said, I doe averre,

Y'have done a thing, you cannot stand to, Sir.

[32.] What is that goeth about the wood and cannot get in?

Solution. It is the bark of a tree, for never is the bark within the tree, but alwayes without.

The country-mans lamentation for the death of his cow.

A Country Swain, of little wit, one day,

Did kill his Cow, because she went astray:

What's that to I or You, she was his own,

But now the Ass for his Cow doth moan:

Most piteously methink he cries in vain,

For now his Cow's free from hunger and pain:

What ails the fool to make so great a stir,

She cannot come to him, he may to her.

To a pleasant Country Tune, called Colly my Cow.

[66.]Little Tom Dogget

what dost thou mean,

To kill thy poor Colly,

now she's so lean:

Sing Oh poor Colly,

Colly my Cow,

For Colly will give me

no more milk now.

Pruh high, pruh hoe,

Pruh high, pruh, hoe,

Pruh, Pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh,

Tal lal daw.

I had better have kept her,

till fatter she had been,

For now I confess,

she's a little too lean:

Sing Oh &c—

First in comes the Tanner,

with his Sword by his side,

And he bids me five Shillings,

for my Cow's Hide:

Sing Oh &c

Then in comes the Tallow Chandler,

whose brains were but shallow,

And he bids me two and Six-pence,

for my Cows Tallow:

Sing Oh &c

Then in comes the Huntsman

so early in the Morn,

He bid me a Penny

for my Cow's horn:

Sing Oh &c

Then in comes the Tripe-Woman

so fine and so neat,

She bid me three halfpence

for my Cow's feet;

Sing Oh &c—

Then in comes the Butcher

that nimble tongu'd Youth

Who said she was Carrion,

but he spoke not the truth:

Sing Oh &c

This Cow had a Skin

was as soft as the silk,

And three times a day

my poor Cow would give Milk:

Sing Oh &c—

She every year

a fine Calf me did bring,

Which fetcht me a pound,

for it came in the spring:

Sing Oh &c

But now I have kill'd her,

I can't her recall,

I will sell my poor Colly,

hide, horns and all:

Sing Oh &c

The Butcher shall have her,

though he gives but a pound;

And he knows in his heart

that my Colly was sound;

Sing Oh &c

And when he has bought her,

let him sell all together,

The flesh for to eat,

and the hide for leather:

Sing Oh &c—

FINIS.

Printed for C. Passinger, at the seven stars in the New Buildings on London-bridge—

[17.] A Miser having a sheep stolen from him, by a poor man, would needs send him to Prison, saying there was not so damn'd a Rogue in the World; Pray, Sir, said he, remember yourself, and be good to me—

[12.]A Glass, when a G

Is took away, I.C.

Is a Lass, I mean of the Game,

Put L too away,

What is't then, I pray,

Why, an Ass, and you are the same.

[4.] A Nobleman having a mind to be merry, sent for his Chaplain, and told him, That, unless he could resolve him these three Questions, he should be discarded, and turn'd out of his Service; but if he cou'd, he shou'd have Thirty Guinneys, and the best Horse in his Stable; So he propos'd the Questions to him, which were these; First, what compass the World was about? Secondly, How deep the Sea was? And Thirdly, What he thought? The Poor Chaplain was in a peck of Troubles, and did not know how to answer them, or what to say, thinking them very unreasonable Questions; so that all he could do was to desire a little time to consider upon them, which the Earl granted. So he going along the Fields one day very melancholy, a Cobler of the Town, a Merry Fellow (who was very like the Chaplain, both in Physiognomy and Stature) met him, and ask'd him the reason of his sadness; which with some Reluctancy he told him: O Sir, says the Cobler, don't be dejected, chear up; I've thought of a device to save your Place, and get you the Money and Horse too; but you shall give me Ten Guinneys for my pains. So he agreed to't; and it was thus: Says he, I'll put on your Cloaths, and go to My Lord, and answer his Questions. Accordingly he went, and when he came before him, he answer'd him thus: To the first Question, What Compass the World was about? He answered, It was four and twenty hours Journey; and if a man could keep pace with the Sun, he could easily go it in that time. To the Second, How deep the Sea was? He answer'd Only a stone's throw; for cast it into the deepest place of it, and in time it will come to the bottom. To the third (which I fancy your Lordship thinks the most difficult to be resolv'd, but is indeed the easiest) which is; What your Lordship thinks? I answer, That you think I am your Chaplain, when as indeed I am but the Cobler of Gloucester. The Nobleman was so pleas'd with his witty Answers, that he perform'd his Promise to his Chaplain, and gave the Cobler Ten Guinneys for his Ingenuity.

[51.]An aged Gentleman sore sick did lie,

Expecting life, that could not chuse but die:

His Foole came to him, and intreated thus.

Good Maister, ere you goe away from us,

Bestowe on Jacke (that oft hath made you laffe)

Against he waxeth old, your Walking-Staffe,—

I will, (quoth he) goe take it, there it is:

But on condition, Jacke, which shall be this,

If thou doe meete with any while thou live,

More foole than thou, the Staffe thou shalt him give.

Maister, (sayd he) upon my life I will;

But I doe hope that I shall keepe it still.

When Death drew neere, and faintness did proceed,

His Maister called for a Devine with speed,

For to prepare him unto Heaven's way.

The Foole starts up, and hastily did say,

Oh Maister, Maister, take your Staffe againe,

That proove your selfe the most Foole of us twaine;

Have you now liv'd some foure-score yeares and odd,

And all this time, are unprepared for God:

What greater Foole can any meete withall,

Than one that's ready in the Grave to fall,

And is to seeke about his soules estate,

When Death is op'ning of the Prison Gate?

Beare Witnesse friends, that I discharge me plaine;

Heere Maister, heere, receive your Staffe againe:

Upon the same condition I did take it,

According as you will'd me, I forsake it:

And over and above, I will bestow,

This Epitaph, which shall your folly show.

Heere lyes a man, at death did Heaven clayme,

But in his life, he never sought the same.

[26.] A Lady in this Kingdom hearing that a Lady, that was a Person of Quality, did much long for Oysters, she then sent a Foot-man of hers, that was an Irish Man, to the said Lady with a Barrel of Oysters, and as he was going, he met an Arch Wag by the way, who askt him whither he was going? Then he told him: "O. Donniel, says he, you must gut them before you go, or else they will Poyson the Lady; I Predde,[¹⁰²] says he, show me how to do it. So the Fellow took them and opened them, and took out all the Oysters and put them into a Wooden Dish that was by, and then put all the Shells again into the Barrell: Now, says he, you may carry them, for they are all gutted: E. Fait,[¹⁰³] said Donniel, for this kindness, I'll give thee a pint of Wine out of the Vails that I shall have of my Lady: but I know not how they were accepted.

[¹⁰²] Ay, prithee.

[¹⁰³] I'faith.

[12.]A man found his Wife

To be idle all her Life,

Then he beat her very sore;

I did nothing, says she,

I know it, says he,

Which makes me to beat you therefore.

[32.] What is that no man would have, and yet when he hath it, will not forgoe it?

Solution. It is a broken head, or such like, for no man would gladly have a broken head, and yet when he hath it, he would be loth to loose his head, though it be broken.

[5.]To be indebted is a shame men say

Then 'tis confessing of a shame to pay.

On a certaine present sent from an Archbishop to his friend.

[67.]Mittitur in Disco, mihi Piscis ab Archiepisco

Po non ponetur, quia potum non mihi detur.

Englished thus.

There was in a dish, sent me a fish, from an Arch bish

Hop I will not put heere, because hee sent me noe beere.

NEWES FROM MORE-LANE.

A mad, knavish, and uncivil Frolick of a Tapster dwelling there, who buying a fat Coult for Eighteen pence, the Mare being dead and he not knowing how to bring the Coult up by hand, killed it, and had it baked in a Pastie, and invited many of his Neighbours to the Feast and telling of them what it was: the Conceit thereof made them all Sick, as by the following ditty you shall hear.

The Tapster fil'd the Cup up to the brim,

And all to make the little Coult to swim;

But all that heares it sayes that for his gaine,

He is no better than a Wagg in graine.

The Tune is, A Health to the best of Men.

[68.]There is a Tapster in More lane

that did a Pasty make,

All People doe of him complaine,

now for his grosse mistake:

Hee instead of Venson fine

a good fat Coult did kill,

And put in store of Clarret Wine,

his humour to fullfill.

A Peck of Flower at the least,

with six pound of Butter,

Hee made his Nighbours such a Feast

and bid them all to supper:

A curious fine fat Colt it was,

and handled daintily:

The Tapster prov'd himself an Asse,

for this his knavery.

Likewise there was a Baker too,

that lived in that place,

And he was a pertaker too,

I speak in his disgrace:

For he found Flower to make it,

I speak not in his praise,

And afterwards did bake it,

his knavery for to raise.

Likewise there was a Carman too

and he found Butter for it,

But when the Knavery Neighbours knew

they could not but abhor it;

And then there was a Cooke, Sir,

at More gate doth he dwell,

And he then under tooke, Sir,

to make the Pasty well.

Some say it eate as mellow then

as any little chick,

But I tell thee, good-fellow; then

it made the Neighbours sick:

The Tapster had his humour,

but the Neighbours had the worst,

Yet I doe hear they had good Beere

and dainty Pastry crust.

Then every joviall Blade, Sir,

that lived in that place,

Their Money freely paid, Sir,

they scorned to be bace:

They cal'd for Beere, likewise for Ale

because the Coult should swim,

And of the Cup they would not faile,

but fil'd it to the brim.

The Car-mans Wife cry'd out and said

troath 'tis good Meat indeed,

So likewise said the Chamber-maid,

when she on it did feed.

The Tapster bid them welcome then,

and Wea-Hae did he cry

You are all welcome, Gentlemen,

you'r welcome hartily.

The Glover's Wife was in a heat,

and did both pout and mump,

Because they would not let her eat

the Buttock and the Rump.

As for the merry Weaver's Wife,

I will give her her due,

She spent her Coyne to end the strife

among that joviall Crew.

This Colt was not so wholsome though

as was a good fat Hogg,

Yet one came in and told the crew

it was a mangie Dogg!

But he that told them was to blame,

and was but a silly Dolt,

The Tapster bid him peace for Shame

for 'twas a good fat Colt.

The Colt he cost me eighteen pence,

the Tapster he did say,

I hope good Folks 'ere you goe hence,

you for your Meate will pay.

Pox take you for a Rogue quoth one,

another, he fel'd oaks,

Another said he was undone!

'twas worse than Harty Choaks.

The Porter he did give nine pence

to have it in a Pye,

The People ere they went from thence

did feed most hartily:

It was the joviall Baker,

and knavish Tapster too,

The Car-man was pertaker

was not this a Joviall crew.

The Potecary he was there,

Farr and the Sexton too,

The Tapster put them in great fear,

he made them for to spue.

Now was not this a knave ingrain,

to use his Neighbours so,

When knaves are scarce, hee'l go for twain,

good People, what think you.

The Tapster he came in at last,

and gave the People vomits,

I hope, (quoth he,) the worst is past,

I have eased your foule Stomacks;

Wea-hea cry'd the Tapster then,

how doe you like my sport,

The Women said, so did the Men,

the Devill take you for't.

At Brainford as I heard some say

a mangie Dog was eate:

This was not halfe so bad as that,

and yet the fault was great:

Men of good fashon then was there

that went both fine and brave

Now all do say, that this doth heare,

the Tapster is a knave.

FINIS.

London, Printed for William Gammon, and to be sould in Smithfield.

[61.] There fell a great dispute betwixt Jockey a Scotchman, and Jenkin a Welch man, and the subject of it was about the fruitfullnesse of their Countries, and thus Jockey began. There was not a braver, fruitfuller Country in the world than Leith in Scotland: The Welch man answered him again, Picot, that was false, for there was no place so full of all sorts of fruite, as was in Wales. Jockey replyed again, that he knew a piece of ground in Scotland where the grass grew up so suddenly that if you throw a Staff in it over night, in that time the pasture would so over grow it, that you could not see it again the next morning. But Jenkin hearing this, with a great Scorne made him this answer, Py Saint Taffe that the throwing so small a thing as a Staff was nothing, for (quoth Shinkin) we have divers pieces of Cround in our Contry, that if you turn your Horse into them, you shall not see him next Morning.

[12.]Why do Men not agree

With their Wives now we see

Men now are more Learn'd, and do brawl;

Tis false Concord we see

For the Masculine to agree

With the Feminine Gender at all.

[26.] Says a Fellow that had lost one of his Ears at Newcastle, for no goodness 'tis thought; when one told him a Story, 'Tis in at one ear and out at t'other. By my truth, says the other, then there's a great deal of wonder in the travel of these Tales, for thy two Ears be two hundred Miles asunder.

[52.] A Certaine Gentleman in Lincolneshire, being also a Justice of Peace, had an old servant many yeares called Adam Milford, who upon a time came unto his Master, and desired him, in regard that he had been his servant so many yeares, hee would now give him somthing to help him in his old age. Thou sayest true, quoth his Master, and I will tell thee what I will doe. Now shortly am I to ride up to London; if thou wilt pay my costs & charges by the way, I will give thee, ere long, such a thing as shall be worth to thee an hundred pounds. I am content, quoth Adam, and so payed for all their reckoning by the way. Being come to London, hee put his Master in mind of his former promise that he had made to him. What did I promise thee anything? Yes, quoth Adam, that you did; for you said you would give me that which should be worth to me an hundred pounds, for bearing your Charges to London. Let me see your writing, quoth his Master. I have none, quoth Adam. Then thou art like to have nothing, quoth his Master; And learne this of me, that when thou makest a bargain with any man, looke thou take a Writing, and beware how thou makest a Writing to any man. This hath availed me an hundred pounds in my dayes. When Adam saw there was no remedy, he was content; but when they should depart Adam stayed behind his Master to reckon with his Hostis, and on his Masters Scarlet cloake borrowed so much mony, as came to all their charges he had laid out by the way. His Master had not ridden past two miles, but it began to raine apace: wherefore he called for his cloake. His other men made answer that Adam was behinde, and had it with him. So they shrowded them under a tree, till Adam came. When he came, his Master said all angerly, Thou knave, come give me my cloak: hast thou not served me well, to let me be thus wet? Truely, Sir, (quoth Adam) I have laid it to pawne for all your charges by the way. Why, knave, quoth he, didst thou not promise me to beare my charges to London? Did I? quoth Adam; I, quoth his Master, that thou didst. Let's see, shew me your writing of it, quoth Adam. Whereupon, his Master perceiving he was over-reacht by his man, was fain to send for his cloak againe, and pay the money.

There was a singular mania in this century for chronograms, or making up dates out of words, which will be best explained in the annexed example. Jas. Hilton, Esq., has by dint of vast trouble and research, been enabled to collect a large quantity of these, and his book [¹⁰⁴] (of which only a very limited number were printed) will well repay the perusal of the curious.

Chronogramma. Anno 1628. obiit
GeorgIVs DVX BVCkInghaMIæ

[67.]Malignant characters that did portend

Duke-murthering Fate & his untimely end,

Constrain'd to die, that would have liv'd & fought

Xantippus like, but that fell Felton brought

Vncertaine quick [¹⁰⁵] to a certaine end.

Vaine are designes, where one doth of his freind

Vsurpe too much, him you doe countermine

In breife the world applaudes this last designe.

It was his death, but now hee's dead & gone

Ill having heard of many, felt but one.

The date 1628 can be easily made by adding the Roman numerals, which are represented by the capital letters.

[¹⁰⁴] Brit. Mus. Catalogue, 11905, a. a. 8. Hilton, Jas., Chronograms; Lond., 1882, 8vo.

[¹⁰⁵] Life.

[5.]All things have savour, though some very small,

Nay, a box on the eare hath no smell at all.

[17.] One having a scoulding Wife, swore he would drown himself. She followed him desiring him to forbear, or at least to let her speak with him. Speak quickly then, says he: Pray Husband, if you will needs drown your self, take my counsel to goe into a deep place; for it would grieve my heart to see you long a dying; with that the Fellow came back again and went to the Indies.

[52.] Coomes of Stapforth hearing that his wife was drowned comming from market went with certaine of his friends to see if they could finde her in the River; he, contrary to all the rest, sought his wife against the streame: which, they perceiving, said, He lookt the wrong way. And why so? (quoth he) Because (quoth they) you should look down the streame, and not against it. Nay (quoth he) I shall never finde her that way: for she did all things so Contrary in her lifetime, that now she is dead, I am sure she will goe against the streame.

[12.]I've known many men

Know each other now and then

Yet never the knowledge could get

Of any Man before

Though known many a score,

That ever knew himself yet.

[4.] Doctor Fuller overtook one M^r Woodcock upon the Road, falling into Discourse in a facetious manner, ask'd him what difference there was between a Woodcock and an Owl, (supposing Mr Woodcock had not known him). He wittily replyed, That an Owl was Fuller in the Head, Fuller in the Face, Fuller in the Eyes, Fuller in the Neck, and Fuller all over.

On Anne Angel marrying a Lawyer.

[67.]Anne is an Angel, but what if she bee.

What is an Angel, but a Lawyer's fee.

[67.]A Welchman walking in y^e darke for feare

Some wall might hitte his face a box o' th' eare,

Strecht out his armes, y^t if such danger Came,

His hands might from his face avert y^e same.

At last betwixt his armes there came a post,

Which hitte his nose, and stroke him downe almost;

Pluter of nayles, quoth he, I did not know

My nose was longer than my armes till now.

The accompanying illustration is taken for its quaintness and as an example of caricature, the tract itself hardly repaying perusal.

[69.]No-Body—Why do'st thou father all thy Lies

On Me? heaping Indignities

On one that never injur'd thee?

Some-Body—My Words and Acts hurt No-Body:

No-Body—Som-Body hath belied me much,

No-Body sure hath cause to grutch.

SomeBody NoBody

[52.] A certain rich Farmer having lain long sick in Norfolk, at last sent for a Physitian from the next Market Towne: who when he came, he felt his pulses, and viewed his water, & then told them, That he could by no means, nor physick escape, the disease had so much power in his body, and so went his way. Within a while after, by God's good help (who is the only giver of all health) the man escaped and was well againe, and walking abroad, being still very weak and feeble, he met with his Physitian, who, being very sore afraid to see him, asks him, if he were not such a Farmer; Yes, truely (quoth he) I am: Art thou alive or dead? (quoth he) Dead (quoth he) I am; and because I have experience of many things, God hath sent me to take up all Physitians I can get: which made the Physitian quiver and quake, and looke as pale as ashes for feare. Nay feare not quoth the Farmer, though I named all the Physitians, yet I meant thee for none: for I am sure a verier dunce lives not this day, than thou art: and then I should be a foole to take thee for one, that art more fit to give dogges physicke than men, and so he left him: but the Physitian never left quaking till he was out of his Patients Sight.

To my Booke-seller.

[70.]Thou that mak'st gaine thy end, and wisely well,

Call'st a booke good, or bad, as it doth sell,

Use mine so, too; I give thee leave. But crave

For the luck's sake, it this much favour have.

To lye upon thy stall, till it be sought;

Not offer'd, as it made sute to be bought;

Nor have my title-leafe on posts, or walls,

Or in cleft-sticks, advanced to make calls

For termers,[¹⁰⁶] or some clarke-like serving-man,

Who scarse can spell th' hard names; whose knight lesse can.

If, without these vile arts, it will not sell,

Send it to Bucklers-bury,[¹⁰⁷] there 'twill, well.

[¹⁰⁶] Nares defines thus, "Termer, a person, whether male or female, who resorted to London in term time only, for the sake of tricks to be practised or intrigues to be carried on at that period;" as in Decker's Belman, "Some of these boothalers are called termers, and they ply Westminster Hall; Michaelmas term is their harvest, and they sweat in it harder than reapers doe at their works in the heat of summer."

[¹⁰⁷] To wrap up spices or drugs. We should now say, "Send it to the butterman."

[61.] Two gentlemen met upon the Road, betwixt Ware and London, the one was a wild young Gallant who had more means than Manners, the other a very grave discreet and temperate Citizen of London; who considering his own yeares, conceived that the younger man would give him the way, and by continuing his speed resolved to trye the young Gallants manners, until their Horses heads met. But the young fellow crost expectation, and uncivilly demanded his way of the elder; who replyed, Sir, since you will dispute it, I must tell you, according to the rules of Civility, the Elder in our Country have alwayes the way of their Younger: But the bold Upstart answered him again, that his Horse would not give way to a Foole. To which the old man replyed, But my Horse will, and so resigned the way to my gallant.

[12.]A Man in a Hall,

His Dogg Cuckold did call;

Says a Woman stood by, 'tis a shame

To calle a Dogg so,

For I'de have you to know

'Tis a Christian bodies name.

[17.] A Lady was bragging that she had overthrown her Enemy in Law: One of her Servants standing by, said, He took a wrong Sow by the ear, when he meddled with your Ladyship.

[17.] In a great Corporation in England, the Serjeants [¹⁰⁸] desired the Mayor they might have Gowns as formerly, for which they had a president:[¹⁰⁹] Gowns, says the Mayor, and why not Coats? So calling for a pair [¹¹⁰] of Cards, said he could cut off that Custom by a president also: he shewed them the four Kings and four Queens in Gowns, but the four Knaves all in short Coats.

[¹⁰⁸] These must not be confounded with that awful being, now legally extinct, a "Serjeant learned in the Law;" but meant tipstaves, or serjeants of the mace.

[¹⁰⁹] Precedent.

[¹¹⁰] A pack.

[5.]Who woes a wife, thinks wedded men do know

The onely true content, I thinke not so;

If Woe in wooers bee, that women court,

As the word Woe in wooers doth import;

And Woe in woemen too, that Courted be,

As the word Woe in women we doe see.

A Merry Dialogue between
Thomas and John.
in the praise and dispraise of Women and Wine.

Thomas against the Women doth contend,

But John most stoutly doth their cause defend;

Young and old read these lines that ensue,

You'l all confess that what I write is true,

I know no reason but that without dispute

This may as well be printed as sung to a Lute.

To a gallant delightful new Tune, well known among Musitioners, and in Play-houses: Called Women and Wine.

Thomas

[71.]Some Women are like to the Wine,

like the Sea, and like the Rocks,

But they that proves them soon may find 'em

like the Wine and Weathercocks.

But if you'l believe me,

i'le tell you true

What light Women are likeunto,

Wine, Women and Wine,

thus you may compare them too.

John

Women most Constant Men doth find,

not like the Sea, but like the Rocks,

They are evermore loving and kind,

not like the Wine and Weather Cocks

But if &c

Thomas

Women have hooks, and women have crooks,

so hath the Wine, so hath the Wine,

Which draws great Lawyers from their books

more than the Wine, more than the Wine.

But if &c

John

Women have beauty and fair looks,

So hath the Wine, so hath the Wine,

Far surpassing the Lawyers books

more than the Wine, more than the Wine.

But if you'l believe me

i'le tell you true

What good Women are like unto,

Wine, Wine, Women and Wine,

thus may you compare them too.

Thomas

Women are Witches when they may

so is the Wine, so is the Wine,

Which causeth men from their Wives to stray,

so will the Wine, so will the Wine.

What good Women are like unto,

Wine, Wine, Women and Wine,

thus you may compare them to.

Printed for J. Williamson,[¹¹¹] at the Sun and Bible in Cannon Street near London Stone.

[¹¹¹] Published in 1665.

[17.] A Welch man in heat of blood, challenged an Englishman at Sword and Buckler; but the Englishman giving him a lusty blow on the leg which vext him, he threw down his Weapon, swearing Splut, was not her Buckler broad enough, but her must hit her on the leg?

[52.] A Bulkin[¹¹²] well knowne in divers places for his mad conceits, and his couzenage, upon a time came into Kent to Sittingborne; and in divers Villages there-about set up bills that all sorts of people, young and old, that would come to Sittingborne, on such a day, they should find a man there, that would give a remedy for all kinds of diseases; and also would tell them what would happen unto any of them in five or Six yeares after: and he would desire but two pence a piece of any of them. Whereupon came people of all sorts and from all places: so that he gathered of the people that came to the value of twenty pounds: and he had provided a Stage, and set it up, and placed a chaire where he would sit: and so, they being all come in, and every one set in order, he comes to the gate, and takes the money from them that gathered it, and bids them looke that good rule be kept, and so they did: also hee bid them by and by sound the drumme, and then he would begin his Orations. He, when they were gone, with all haste gets him to the backe-side, and there having his Gelding, gets upon his backe, and away towards Rochester rides he, as fast as ever he could gallop. Now they, thinking he had beene preparing of things in a readinesse, sounded the drumme. The Audience looked still when he would come, and staying one, two, or three houres, nay more, thought sure they were cozened. Whereupon one of the Company seeing a paper in the chaire on the Stage, tooke it, wherein was written.

Now you have heard the sound of the drumme,

You may all depart like fooles as you come.

Whereupon the men falling to cursing and swearing, the women to scolding, scratching, and biting, were fame to depart like fooles indeed.

[¹¹²] Or bulchin, is a little bull, or bull calf.

[12.]A Man being cold

In's Boots, was so bold,

To stand near the fire for remedy;

You'l burn your Spurs, says Jane,

My Boots sure you mean;

No, Sir, they are burnt already.

[26.] A Scholar coming home from Cambridge to his Father, his Father askt him what he had learnt? Why Father, says he, I'll prove that this Capon is better than the blessing of God. How Zon, says he, come, let's hear it; Why thus, Father, says he, nothing you know is better than the blessing of God, and this Leg of the Capon is better than Nothing: Ergo.

[52.] In London dwelt a mad conceited fellow, which with his wit lived with Gallants and domineered with good fellowes. Not very long agoe, in Hay-harvest, he gets a Pitchforke on his neck, went forth towards Islington in the morning, and meets with two loads of Hay, comming towards the City to be sold: for the which hee bargained with them that owned the same, for thirty shillings. But whither shall wee bring them? quoth they. To the Swanne by Smithfield, said hee. And so went his way, and left them: then to the Swan he went, to the good man of the house, and asked if he would buy two loades of Hay? Yes, quoth the Inne keeper, where be they? Here they come, quoth he. What shall I pay, quoth the In-keeper? Foure Nobles [¹¹³] a load, quoth the Make-shift. But at the last they agreed for twenty shillings. When they were come, he bad them unload the Hay. So while they were unloading of it, hee came to the Inne-holder, and said, I pray you let me have my money: for while my men unload, I will buy some stuffe to have home with me. The Inne-holder was content, and gave him money, and so hee went away. When the men had unloaded their Hay they came and demanded their money. I have paid your Master (quoth the Inne holder). What Master? quoth they. Marry, quoth hee, he that bad you bring the Hay hither. Wee know him not quoth they. Nor I neither, quoth hee, but with him I bargained, and him have I paid; with you I meddled not, and therefore go seeke him if you will. And so the poore men were cozened.

[¹¹³] A noble was 6s. 8d.

[72.]