The cunning Northerne Begger

Who all the By-standers doth earnestly pray
To bestow a penny upon him to day.

To the Tune of Tom of Bedlam.

[29.]I am a lusty begger,

And live by others giving,

I scorne to worke,

But by the highway lurke,

And beg to get my living:

I'le i' th' wind and weather,

And weare all ragged Garments,

Yet though I am bare,

I am free from care,

A fig for high preferments.

For still will I cry good, your worship, good sir,

Bestow one poor denier, sir;

Which when I've got,

At the Pipe and Pot,

I soon will it cashiere, sir.

I have my shifts about me,

Like Proteus often changing,

My shape when I will

I alter still,

About the country ranging:

As soon as I a Coatch see,

Or Gallants by come riding,

I take my Crotch,

And rouse from my Couch,

Whereas I lay abiding.

And still doe cry, &c.

Now as a wandring Souldier,

(That has i' th' warres bin maymed

With the shot of a Gunne)

To Gallants I runne,

And begg, sir, helpe the lamed:

I am a poore old Souldier

And better times once viewed,

Though bare now I goe,

Yet many a foe,

By me hath been subdued.

And therefore I cry &c.

Although I nere was further,

Than Kentish-street in Southwarke,

Nor ere did see

A Battery

Made against any bulwarke;

But with my Tricks and Doxes,

Lay in some corner lurking,

And nere went abroad,

But to beg on the road,

To keep my selfe from working:

And alwaies to cry &c.

Anon I'm like a saylor

And weare old Canvas cloathing,

And then I say

The Dunkerks away,

Took all and left me nothing:

Sixe ships set all upon us,

'Gainst which we bravely ventur'd

And long withstood,

Yet could doe no good,

Our ship at length they enter'd

And therefore I cry &c.

Sometime I like a Criple

Upon the ground lye crawling,

For money I begge,

As wanting a legge

To beare my corps from falling:

Then seeme I weake of body,

And long t' have beene diseased,

And make complaint

As ready to faint,

And of my griefs increased.

And faintly I cry &c.

My flesh I can so temper,

That it shall seeme to feister

And looke all ore,

Like a raw sore,

Whereon I stick a plaister:

With blood I daub my face then,

To faigne the falling sicknesse,

That in every place

They pitty my case,

As if it came from weaknesse.

And then I doe cry &c.

Then as if my sight I wanted,

A Boy doth walke beside me,

Or else I doe

Grope as I goe,

Or have a dog to guide me:

And when I'm thus accounted,

To th' highway side I hye me,

And there I stand

With Cords in my hand,

And beg of all comes nye me.

And earnestly cry &c.

Next to some country fellow

I presently am turned,

And cry alacke,

With a Child at my back,

My house and goods were burned:

Then me my Doxes follow,

Who for my Wifes believed,

And along wee two

Together goe,

With such mischances grieved.

And still we doe cry &c.

What though I cannot labour,

Shall I therefore pine with hunger,

No, rather than I

Will starve where I lye,

I'le beg of the money monger:

No other care shall trouble

My minde, nor griefe disease me,

Though sometimes the flash

I get or the lash

'Twill but a while displease me.

And still will I cry &c.

No tricks at all shall scape me,

But I will by my maunding

Get some reliefe

To ease my griefe,

When by the highway standing:

'Tis better be a Begger

And aske of kind good fellowes,

And honestly have

What we do crave,

Than steale and goe to the Gallowes.

Therefore I'le cry &c.

FINIS.

Printed at London for F. Coules.[⁵⁹]

[⁵⁹] Same as Francis Coles (see "[The Great Boobee]").

[26.] One coming into New-Market to buy some Butter, and there cheapened some; and the woman askt. 10d a pound: then he smelt to it; What, says she, do you smell to it, it seems you do not like my Butter: Yes, says he, but 'tis no better than it should be. Then you'll buy none, says she: No, says he, for a reason best known to myself. Then she askt him the reason, and with much importunity he told her, 'twas because he had no Money: Well then, says the Woman, take it for nothing, so you'll pay me for it next time you come.

[12.]Sirrah, you are base

To spit in my face,

That he vow'd, he wou'd him kill;

Sir, I pray forbear,

I thought no hurt here,

Nay, I'le tread it out, if you will.

A contest at the Hoop-Tavern between two Lawyers.

[25.]Two Lawyers had of late a Tavern Jarr

And as 'twas made, 'twas try'd at Bacchus Bar;

The Jury Pints and Quarts, and Pottles were,

Each of a quick and understanding Eare,

Brought in their verdict, which no sooner pass'd

But that the Lawyers they themselves did cast.

Sir Burdeux Claret, White, Signiour Canary,

Sir Reynold Rhenish, with a tertiorary,

Whipt up my Youths (& they ye know were able)

This into th' Chimny, that beneath the Table.

Where They lay both, instead of a demur,

So foxt, that neither, in the case, could stir,

They might have else a Writ of Error got,

But, O the Error of the Pottle Pot!

Both over-thrown, and on their backs now laid,

Let the Sute fall, and their own charges paid.

And thus, though Westminster makes Clients stoop,

The Lawyer's Case was alter'd at the Hoop.

[4.] A Conceited Scholar that was lately come from Oxford, drinking with two or three Gentlemen, at the Mitre Tavern in the Poultrey, was very brisk and airy, and would needs be forming of Sylogismes &c. One wise one was this, He bid them fill two Glasses of Wine, which they did: now: says he, I will prove those two Glasses to be three, thus, Is not here one, says he? Yes, says the Gentleman. And here another, that's two, says he; Yes, says the Gentleman again. Why, then, says he, one and two is three, so 'tis done. Very well, says the Gentleman, I'll have one Glass, and that Gentleman shall have the other, and you shall have the third for your pains in finding it out.

Of inclosing a Common.

[6.]A Lord, that purpos'd for his more availe,

To compass in a Common with a rayle,

Was reckoning with his friend about the Cost,

And charge of every rayle, and every post:

But he, (that wisht his greedy humour crost)

Said, Sir, provide you Posts, and without fayling,

Your neighbours round about will find you rayling.

[12.]Some said, Sir, you keep

Such a gaping in your sleep,

He told 'em then they did lye all;

For a looking glass he'd buy,

At his bed's-feet to lye,

On purpose to make a tryal.

[4.] A Scholar of Oxford having wore out the Heels of his Boots, brought them in his hands to a Cobler, and shewing him them, said, O thou curious Artificer, that hast by no small pains and study, arrived to the perfection of that exquisite art of repairing the defects of old decayed Calcuments, affix me two Semicircles to my Suppeditors. The Cobler stared upon him, as if he would have looked him through; but a little recovering himself, said, Before George, Sir, I understand not your hard Language: but if I put on two Heel pieces, I'll have a Groat for them.

The same Scholar being asked by a Porter for a Gentleman's Chamber in the Colledg, he directed him thus, you must crucifie the Quadrangle, and ascend the Grades, and you will find him perambulating in his Cubicle, near the Fenester. Pray Sir, says the Porter, what is that Fenester? It is, replies the Scholar, the Diaphonous part of an Edifice, erected for the Introduction of Illumination, which so amazed the Porter, that at first he did not know what to think, till recovering himself, he went and enquired of another, who gave him plainer directions, in more intelligible terms.

A Caution for Scolds
or
A True Way of Taming a Shrew.

To the tune of Why are my eyes still flowing.

This may be printed R.P.

[30.]A Noble Man he Marry'd with a cruel Scold,

Who in her humours would ne'r be controul'd,

So that he was almost a weary of his Life,

By the cross humours of his froward Wife:

Although he shewed himself exceeding kind,

Yet she was still of a turbulent mind;

Husband and Servants her Fury must feel,

For in their Ears she would ring them a Peal.

When any Friend approach'd the presence of her Lord,

By this vile Shrew they were strangely abhor'd;

With cruel Frowns and Railings she would them salute

Tho' they were Persons of worthy Repute;

All was a case for she woud have her Will,

And the whole House with Confusion she'd fill;

So that for fear of the heat of her Fray

They have been forc'd to run packing away.

It was his chance to make a worthy noble feast,

Inviting full forty Couple at least,

Both Lords and Earls, with vertuous Ladies of high fame,

Who in true Friendship accordingly came:

All sorts of dainties he then did prepare,

No cost nor charge in the least he did spare;

But ere they could to their Banqueting fall,

Sirs, you shall hear how she welcom'd them all.

When she beheld the Costly Dishes of Rich Meat,

This Shrew had not the Stomach to Eat,

But did cry out, I shall be Ruined at this rate,

This is enough to consume an Estate:

Before she any more words did reply

She made both Bottles and Dishes to flye;

Both Friends and Husband she there did abuse,

Asking him how he dare be so profuse?

Like Thunder loud, her voice she straight began to raise,

Which made the Guests to stand all in a maze,

Who never saw the like in all their lives before,

Dishes of Meat they lay strow'd on the floor;

Thus in disorder they all went their way,

Each one was glad they were out of the fray;

Then said her Husband did ever Man know,

Any poor Mortal so plagu'd with a Shrow.

Now the next day he to a skilful Doctor went,

Promising that he would give him content,

If he could cure the cause of a Distracted Wife

Which almost made him a weary of his Life;

Yes, quoth the Doctor, i'le do it ne'r fear,

Bring her, for now 'tis the Spring of the Year;

I'le take the Lunacy out of her Brains,

Or else I wont have a Groat for my pains.

Then home he went and sent her thither out of hand,

Now when the Shrow, she did well understand

All their intent, she cal'd the Doctor sneaking knave;

Now when he see she began for to Rave,

Straightways the Doctor did bind her in Bed,

Leting her Blood, likewise shaving her Head;

Sirrah, said she, I would have you to know,

That you shall suffer for serving me so.

Madam, said he, I know you are beside your Wits,

But I will soon bring you out of those Fits;

I'le cut your Tongue, and when a Gallon you have bled,

'Twill cure that violent Noise in your Head;

Pray Sir, said she, don't afflict me so sore,

I'le ne'r offend my sweet Husband no more;

Thus by sharp Usage and keeping her low,

He had the fortune to Conquer the Shrow.

After some time, he came to see his Wife at last,

When she begg'd pardon for all that was past;

Saying, her Fits for evermore she would refrain,

If he'd be pleas'd to receive her again;

My former Follies I pray now forgive,

Ile ne'r offend you no more while I live:

Then in much love they both homeward did go

Thus has he made a sweet Wife of a Shrow.

FINIS.

[18.] One being set upon by Robbers at five a Clock in the Morning, Gentlemen, says he to 'em, you open Shop very early to day.

[12.]Mr Hill he did say

H non est litera,

But a note of aspiration still;

Now I think on't better,

If it be not a letter,

With him it will go very ill.

On Galla going to the Bath.

[14.]When Galla for her health goes to the Bath,

She carefully doth hide, as is most meet,

With aprons of fine linnen or a sheet,

Those parts that modesty concealed hath;

Nor only those, but even the breast and neck,

That might be seen or shown without all check;

But yet one foul and unbeseeming place.

She leaves uncovered still; what's that? her face.

[8.] There was one that died greatly in Debt, when it was reported in some company, where divers of his Creditors were, that he was dead; one began to say in good faith, then he hath Carried five hundred ducates of mine with him into the other world; and another of them said, and two hundred of mine; and some others spake of several sums of theirs: whereupon one that was amongst them said, Well, I see now, that though a man cannot carry any of his own with him, into the other world, yet he may carry other mens.

[5.]A Welshman and an Englishman disputed,

Which of their Lands maintain'd the greatest state,

The Englishman the Welshman quite confuted,

Yet would the Welshman nought his brags abate:

Ten Cooks, quoth he, in Wales one wedding sees;

Truth quoth the other, each man tosts his cheese.

[12.]'Fore a Justice was brought

One for a great fault;

Y'are an errant Dog, Rogue, says he;

Sir, I am no Dog,

Nor so errant a Rogue.

As your Worship —— takes me to be.

[17.] A Western Lady was very Hospitable to many Gentlemen, and it happened a Knight came thither; and being a great House-wife, early in the Morning she called to her maids, and ask'd whether the Pigs were served; which the Knight hearing, said before the Gentlewoman at dinner, Madam are the Pigs served? Sir, says she, I know not whether you have had your breakfast yea or no.

[5.]My love and I for kisses play'd

She would keep stakes, I was content,

And when I wonne, she would be payd;

This made me aske her what she meant,

Sayth she, since you are in this wrangling vaine,

Take you your kisses, and give me mine againe.

On a farmer knighted.

[5.]In my conceit Sir John, you were to blame,

To make a quiet good wife, a mad dame.

[26.] Some Gentlemen were sitting at a Coffee-house together, one was asking what News there was? T'other told him, There was forty thousand Men rose to day, which made them all stare about, and asked him to what end they rose, and what did they intend? Why faith, says he, only to go to bed at Night again.

Of Milo the Glutton.

[6.]Milo with haste to cram his greedy gut,

One of his thumbs into the bone had cut.

Then straight, it noysed was about by some,

That he had lost his stomacke with his thumbe.

To which one said. No worse hap fall unto him,

But, if a poore man finde it, 'twill undo him.

[18.] A Person of Quality owed a Gentleman a Thousand Pounds. Meeting together in a fair Road, where both their Coaches went a good rate; the first looking out of the Coach called to the Gentleman, and begged a thousand Excuses. And I beg, said the Gentleman presently, a thousand Pounds.

A Pleasant new Ballad you here may behold,
How the Devill, though subtle, was guld by a Scold.

To the Tune of The Seminary Priest.

[31.]Give eare my loving Country-men

that still desire newes,

Nor passe not while you heare it sung,

or else the song peruse:

For ere you heare it, I must tell

my newes, it is not common,

But Ile unfold a trueth betwixt

a Devill and a woman.

Tom Thumb is not my subiect,

whom Fairies oft did aide,

Nor that mad spirit Robin

that plagues both wife and maid

Nor is my song satyricke like,

invented against no man,

But onely of a pranke betwixt

a Devill and a woman.

....

A woman well in yeares

liv'd with a husband kinde

Who had a great desire

to live content in minde,

But twas a thing impossible

to compasse his desire

For night and day with scolding

she did her husband tire.

With roughish, lowtish clowne,

despight thee Ile be wilde,

Doest thou think I marryed thee

to use thee like a childe,

And set thee on my lap,

or humour what you speake?

Before Ile be so fond,

thy very heart Ile breake.

Why, loving wife, quoth he,

Ile never doe thee wrong,

So thoul't be rul'd by me,

and onely hold thy tongue.

And when I come from worke,

wilt please at board and bed;

Doe this my loving wife

and take all being dead.

Marke well, quoth she, my words

what ere you speak me to,

By faire meanes or by foule,

the contrary Ile doe.

According to her speech,

this man led such a life,

That oft he wish't the Devill

to come and fetch his wife.

Had he bid her goe homely,

why then she would goe brave,

Had he cal'd her good wife,

she cal'd him rogue and slave;

Bade he, wife goe to Church,

and take the fairest pew,

Shee'd goe unto an Alehouse,

and drinke, lye downe and spew.

The Devill being merry

with laughing at this mirth,

Would needs from hell come trotting,

to fetch her from the earth;

And coming like a horse,

did tell this man his minde,

Saying, Set her but astride my backe,

Ile hurry her through the winde.

Kinde Devill quoth the man,

if thou a while will wait,

Ile bid her doe that thing

shall make her backe thee straight

And here Ile make a vow

for all she is my wife,

Ile never send for her againe

whilest I have breath or life.

Content, the Devill cry'd,

then to his wife goes he

Good wife, goe lead that horse

so black and fair you see.

Goe leade, sir Knave, quoth she

and wherefore not goe ride?

She took the Devill by the reines,

and up she goes astride.

The Devill neighed lowd,

and threw his heeles i' th' ayre,

Kick, in the Devill's name, quoth she,

a shrew doth never fear.

Away to hell he went,

with this most wicked scold,

But she did curbe him with the bit,

and would not loose her hold.

The more he cry'd, Give way,

the more she kept him in,

And kickt him so with both her heeles,

that both his sides were thin.

Alight, the Devill cry'd,

and quick the bridle loose,

No I will ride (quoth she)

whiles thou hast breath or shooes.

Again she kickt and prickt,

and sate so stiffe and well,

The Devill was not so plagu'd

a hundred years in hell.

For pitty light (quoth he)

thou put'st me to much paine,

I will not light, (quoth she)

till I come home againe.

The Devill shewed her all

the paines within that place,

And told her that they were

ordain'd for Scolds so base.

Being bereft of breath,

for scolding tis my due,

But whilest I live on earth

Ile be reveng'd on you.

Then did she draw her knife,

and gave his eare a slit,

The Devill never felt

the like from mortall yet.

So fearing further danger,

he to his heeles did take,

And faster than he came,

he poast hast home did make.

Here take her (quoth the Devill)

to keep her here be bold,

For hell would not be troubled

with such an earthly scold.

When I come home, I may

to all my fellowes tell,

I lost my labour and my bloud

to bring a scold to hell.

The man halfe dead did stand,

away the Devill hyde,

Then since the world, nor hell,

can well a Scold abide:

To make a saile of ships

let husbands fall to worke,

And give their free consents

to send them to the Turke.

Then honest wives and maides,

and widdowes of each sort,

Might live in peace and rest,

and Silence keep her court,

Nor would I have a scold,

one penny here bestow,

But honest men and wives

buy these before you goe.

FINIS.

Printed at London for Henry Gosson [⁶⁰] dwelling upon London Bridge. neare to the Gate.

[⁶⁰] Henry Gosson published between 1607 and 1641.

[32.]He went to the wood and caught it,

He sate him down and sought it,

Because he could not find it,

Home with him he brought it.

Solution.

That is a thorn; for a man went to the wood and caught a thorn in his foot, and then he sate him down, and sought to have pull'd it out, and because he could not find it out he must needs bring it home.

[26.] A rich and covetous Councellor of this Kingdom, that had an only Child, which was a Daughter and worth £20,000. A young and handsome Gentleman of good Birth though of no great Fortune; yet had so far insinuated himself into the young Lady's Favour, that she promis'd him Marriage, if he could get her Father's Consent. Immediately he comes for London, and goes to her Father, and told him, That he would give him £10 for a Fee if he could assist him in a business which did much concern him: which was, That there was a rich young Heiress in town, which had promised him marriage if it could any way be made good by Law: Why, says he, let her hire a Horse, and invite you to take her away, and let her get up before, and you behind that it may not be said that you rode away with her, but she with you, and let her go to the Minister, and tell him, 'tis her desire to be married to you, and to get a Licence accordingly; and when you are married, then be sure to bed her, and I'll warrant you she's your own. And this, says the Gentleman, you'll avouch for Law? He told him, Yes. Well Sir, says he, if you will set your Hand to it, I'll give you Ten Pounds more; which he did. Immediately he goes into the Country, and shews the young Lady what was done, and how 'twas done; and she accordingly performed her promise, and suddenly married and bedded; and having so continued a week they both came to London, and came to her Father, and fell down upon their knees to him, and craved his Blessing; which made him at first fly into harsh Language; but the Gentleman said, We have done nothing but what you avoucht for Law, and have it under your hand. The Lawyer fearing his Reputation might be brought in question, and seeing him to be a handsome and well bred Gentleman, and of a good family, clape both their hands together, and bid God bless them; and then gave them a subsistence for the present, and made over all to them after his death.

[12.]Three had a contest

Which grain was the best;

The first said Wheat had the Quorum

The second stood for Rye

But the third did reply

Hordea est farra forum.[⁶¹]

[⁶¹] Far afore 'em.

On one in debt.

[14.]Don Pedro's out of debt; be bold to say it;

For they are said to owe that mean to pay it.

[4.] A Gentleman that had never been used to Wounds, received a small scratch with a Sword in a Tavern Fray; at which he was sadly frighted, and sent immediately for a Chyrurgeon, who coming, and seeing the Wound but slight, and the Gentleman in a great fear: for sport's sake pretended great danger, and therefore sends his Man with great speed to fetch him such a Plaister: Why Sir, quoth the Gentleman, is the wound so dangerous? O Yes, replyed the Arch Chyrurgeon, for if he don't make great haste, it will heal of it self, before he comes.

Scylla toothlesse.

[24.]Scylla is toothlesse; yet when she was young,

She had both tooth enough, and too much tongue:

What should I now of toothlesse Scylla say?

But that her tongue hath worne her teeth away.

The extravagances of male attire in Charles the First's time justly called down the wrath of the Satirists, particularly of the Puritan School. The Cavaliers, however, were only effeminate in their dress, their gallant conduct in the Civil war proving them to be men of mettle. The subjoined is so faithful in its representation of the then height of fashion as to be almost removed from caricature, still the letterpress evidently intends it to be a satire as bitter as could be made by the Roundhead who penned it, who naturally believed in "the Unlovelinesse of Love Lockes."

The
Picture of an English Antick,
with a List of his ridiculous Habits
and apish Gestures.

Maids, where are your hearts become? look you what here is!

[33.]His hat in fashion like a close-stoolepan.
Set on the top of his noddle like a coxcombe.
Banded with a calves tail, and a bunch of riband.
A feather in his hat, hanging down like a Fox taile.
Long haire, with ribands tied in it.
His face spotted.
His beard on the upper lip, compassing his mouth.
His chin thrust out, singing as he goes.
His band lapping over before.
Great band strings, with a ring tied.
A long wasted dubblet unbuttoned half way.
Little skirts.
His sleeves unbuttoned.
In one hand a stick, playing with it, in the other his cloke hanging.
His breeches unhooked ready to drop off.
His shirt hanging out.
His codpeece open tied at the top with a great bunch of riband.
His belt about his hips.
His sword swapping betweene his legs like a Monkeys taile.
Many dozen points at knees.
Above the points of either side two bunches of riband of severall colours.
Boot hose tops, tied about the middle of the Calfe, as long as a paire of shirt sleeves, double at the ends like a ruffe band.
The Tops of his boots very large turned down as low as his spurs.
A great paire of spurres, gingling like a Morrice dancer.
The feet of his boots 2 inches too long.
Two horns at each end of his foot, stradling as he goes.

Nov. 18, 1646.

[12.]One desir'd, being dead,

To have Hysop round his head,

But Time is better I think;

For you'l find it a crime,

If not buryed in time,

For certain your Corps will stink.

[32.] What work is that the faster ye work, longer is it ere ye have done, and the slower ye work the sooner ye make an end?

Solution. That is turning of a Spit; for if ye turn fast, it will be long ere the meat be roasted, but if ye turn slowly, the sooner it is roasted.

A new married Bride.

[5.]The first of all our sex, came from the side of man,

I thither am return'd from whence I came.

Of finding a hare.

[6.]A Gallant full of life, and void of care.

Asked his friend if he would find a hare?

He that for sleepe, more than such sports did care,

Said, Goe your waies, and leave me heere alone;

Let them find hares that lost them, I lost none.

The next illustration is from a single sheet broadside entitled "Englands Wolfe with eagles clawes, or the cruell Impieties of Bloud-Thirsty Royalists, and blasphemous Anti-Parliamentarians, under the command of that inhumane Prince Rupert, Digby, and the rest. Wherein the barbarous Crueltie of our Civill uncivill Warres is briefly discovered. London: Printed by Matthew Simmons dwelling in Aldersgate Streete. 1646."

This broadside scarcely comes within the scope of this work, dealing as it does with the alleged cruelties committed by the Cavaliers; but the engraving clearly is a political satire, not only on the Cavaliers themselves, but on their extravagances in dress.

[18.] If you ask why borrowed Books seldom return to their Owners? this is the Reason one gives for it: Because 'tis easier to keep 'em, than what is in them.

[8.] There was a Painter became a Physician, whereupon one said to him, You have done well, for before the faults of your work were seen, but now they are unseen.

[12.]A Lawyer said in jest

A Taylor is the best

Client in all the Land:

And his reason is good,

If well understood,

'Cause he has so many Suits in hand.

In Richardum quendam, Divitem, Avarum.

[24.]Devising on a time what name I might

Best give unto a dry illiberall chuffe,

After long search on his owne name I light,

Nay then (said I) No more, I have enough;

His name and nature do full well agree,

For's name is Rich and hard; and so is he.

The Dumb MAID,[⁶²]
or, the
Young Gallant Trappan'd.

A young Man did unto her a Wooing come,

But she pretended much that she was dumb;

But when they both in Marriage bands were ty'd,

The Doctor's skill was likewise with her try'd;

The Doctor he set her Tongue on the Run,

She Chatters now and never will have done.

To a New Tune, call'd, Dum, dum, dum; Or, I would I were in my own Country &c.

Licens'd and Enter'd according to Order.

[35.]All you that pass along,

Give ear unto my song,

Concerning a youth

that was young, young, young;

And of a Maiden fair

Few with her might compare

But alack, and alas, she

was dumb, dumb, dumb.

She was beautious, fresh and gay

Like the pleasant Flowers in May,

And her cheeks was as round,

as a plum, plum, plum;

She was neat in every part,

And she stole away his heart,

But alack, and alas, she

was dumb, dumb, dumb.

At length this Country Blade,

Wedded this prety Maid,

And he kindly conducted

her home, home, home;

Thus in her Beauty bright,

Lay all his whole Delight

But alack, and alas,

she was dumb, dumb, dumb.

Now will I plainly show

What work this Maid could do,

Which a Pattern may be,

For girls young, young, young:

O she both day and night

In working took delight.

But alack, and alas, she

was dumb, dumb, dumb.

She could brew, and she could bake,

She could wash, wring and shake,

She could sweep the house

with a broom, broom, broom:

She could knit and sow and spin,

And do any such like thing

But alack, and alas, she

was dumb, dumb, dumb.

But at last this man did go,

The Doctor's skill to know,

Saying, Sir, can you cure

a Woman of the Dumb?

O it is the easiest part,

That belongs unto my Art,

For to cure a Woman

of the Dumb, dumb, dumb.

To the Doctor he did her bring,

And he cut her Chattering-string,

And he set her Tongue on

the run, run, run:

In the morning he did rise,

And she fill'd his house with cries,

And she rattled in his ears

like a drum, drum, drum.

To the Doctor he did go,

With his heart well fill'd with woe,

Crying, Doctor, I am

undone, done, done;

Now she's turn'd a scolding Wife

And I'm weary of my life,

Nor I cannot make her hold

her tongue, tongue, tongue.

The Doctor thus did say,

When she went from me away,

She was perfectly cured of

the dumb, dumb, dumb.

But it's beyond the Art of Man,

Let him do the best he can,

For to make a scolding Woman

hold her tongue, tongue, tongue.

So as you to me came

Return you back again

And take you the Oyl

of Hazel [⁶³] strong

With it anoint her Body round,

When she makes the House to sound,

So perhaps you may charm her,

tongue, tongue, tongue.

[⁶²] For tune, see [Appendix].

[⁶³] A hazel switch.

[26.] A Schoolmaster did always dictate to his Scholars. H non est Litera, that is H is no letter; and on a time he call'd one of the Scholars to him, and bid him heat the Cawdle, and when he askt for it, the Scholar told him, that he had done with the Cawdle as he bid him. What's that? says his Master, Why Sir, says he, I did eat it. Sirrah, says he, I bid you heat it with an H. Yes Sir, says he, But I did eat it with Bread.

[32.] What is that that hath his belly full of man's meat and his mouth full of dirt? Solution. It is an Oven when it is full of bread, or pies, for that is man's meat, and the Ovens mouth is then closed with dirt.

[12.]What's an Ace, says one,

Dewce take me, says John,

The Tray will be up in a trice

You cater waule now.

And your wit sinks low,

Why friends, the jest is concise.

[24.]Death and an honest Cobler fell at bate

And finding him worne out, would needs translate;

He was a trusty so'le, and time had bin

He would, well liquord, go through thick and thin.

Death put a trick upon him, and what was't?

The Cobler call'd for All, death brought his last;

'Twas not uprightly done to cut his thread,

That mended more and more till he was dead;

But since hee's gone, tis all that can be said,

Honest Cut-Cobler here is underlayed.

In political satire it was not to be expected that so prominent a person as Prince Rupert, the son of James I.'s own sister, could come off scathless; but it is somewhat singular, and it shows the bitterness of the parties, that even his pets, his poodle dog, and his monkey, should provoke the satiric ire of the Roundhead writers. Both are historical, and, thanks to Thomason, whose wonderful collection, known as the "Kings Pamphlets," exists in the British Museum, the materials of their history are easily accessible to the student. The Prince's dog "Boy" was a white poodle, and it is somewhat curious to note that poodles, over 200 years since, were shaved so as to conserve the lionlike mane, although the dandyisms of tufts on the legs and tail seem to have been reserved for a later era.

"To him pudel."
'Roundhead Curr'

"Bite him, peper"
'Cauilier Dog'

His master must have had a special and peculiar affection for "Boy," as he, and a tame hare, "which used to follow him about & do his bidding with facility," were his solace when imprisoned at Lintz in 1641. According to a writer,[⁶⁴] whose "Prince Ruperts diary" everybody would like to see, it was a "beautiful white dogge," was given him by Lord Arundell, and was "of a breede so famous that the Grand Turk gave it in particular injunction to his ambassador to obtaine him a puppie thereof." His nationality is given in a tract [36] as being either of German or Finland breed, and he must soon have become notorious, as Prince Rupert did not come over to England after his release from prison until February 1642; and we find from the accompanying engraving [36] that early the following year he was politically made use of for party purposes.

In this dialogue, which is too lengthy for reproduction here, it will be seen that he was already accredited with supernatural qualities.

"Tobies Dog. . . . I heare you are Prince Ruperts white Boy.

P. Rup. dog. I am none of his White Boy, my name is Puddle.

Tob. dog. A dirty name indeed, you are not pure enough for my company, besides I hear on both sides of my eares that you are a Laplander, or Fin land Dog, or truly no better than a Witch in the shape of a white Dogge.

.....

Tob. Dog. You are of Brackley breed, better to hang than to keep.

Pr. Rup. Dog. No, Sirrah, I am of high Germain breed;

Tob. Dog. Thou art a Reprobate, and a lying Curre; you were either whelpt in Lapland, or else in Fin land; where there is none but divells and Sorcerers live."

This supernatural idea seems to have had its rise in Boy's accompanying his master always, even on the battlefield, enjoying a marvellous immunity from harm. There is a very similar engraving to the accompanying, in a chap-book of "The History of the Blind Begger of Bednal Green" [38]], where it does duty for "Young Monford Riding to the Wars, where he unhapily lost his Eye sight."[⁶⁵] And I have no doubt but that in this present work the engraving to "The Poets Dream" is an old woodcut of Prince Rupert and his dog Boy.

[37.]

Dauentry

Brimidgham

In another tract of the time [39] are plentiful allusions to his being a witch. "Grumbling Sir, or counterfeit Lapland Lady, I admire thy impudence in calling thyself a Lady: Art thou a Lady and hast so much haire?... Thou wouldst be a rough bed fellow for the Divell himself; if thou art not a Divell thyself, thou hast conditions sutable to thy shape, for thou doest snarle and bite at the Parliament, and hast learnt that quality from other Popish Dogs; good thou canst do none to the Prince, for that is contrary to the nature of a Witch, which in some respects thou unjustly doest assume, but in other conditions most fitly, for a Witch will dine or suppe with a roasted crab squittering in the fire, or with a few boild Onions and a draught of Buttermilke which one of her neighbours gave her for fear more than for love, but thou doest fare most deliciously of the rumps and wings of Capons, and Kidneys, and art indeed better fed than taught. Besides a Witch will lie upon an old straw bed with her house Cat which seems instead of her bed fellow. But the Kings chair of state and all the embroydered velvet stools are thy day couches, where thou lyest and sleepest with thy malignant eyes half open, and canst winke at small and great faults as thou doest for occasion. But then thou art a Witch again in some conditions, for they are overgrown with ugly gray hair which hangs down about their shoulders, and so art thou, Boy. Witches are ready to doe mischief, but can do no good, and such are thy malignant qualities, Boy; Pardon me, for though our gracious King loves thee, it is not as thou art a Witch but as thou art Prince Robert's dog." And this attack on poor Boy winds up with calling him "a very cowardly malignant cur," though he look like a lion.

Another tract [40] talks of "her cousen Prince Ruperts with her white Tog, which as her Moderns hold is a Prince disguis'd." And Cleveland [41] in his ode "to Prince Rupert" sings to poor Boy's disadvantage, and holds him up as a bugbear.

"They fear the Giblets of his Train, they fear

Even his Dog, that four legg-d Cavalier:

He that devours the Scraps which Lunsford makes,

Whose Picture feeds upon a Child in Stakes.

Who name but Charles he comes aloft for him,

But holds up his Malignant Leg at Pym.

'Gainst whom they've several Articles in Souse;

First that he barks against the Sense o' th' House.

Resolv'd Delinquent, to the Tower straight;

Either to th' Lyons, or the Bishops Grate.

Next, for his Ceremonious Wag o' th' Tail;

But there the Sisterhood will be his Bail,

At least the Countess will, Lust's Amsterdam,

That lets in all Religions of the Game.

Thirdly, he smells Intelligence, that's better,

And cheaper too, than Pym from his own Letter:

Who's doubly pay'd (Fortune or we the blinder?)

For making Plots, and then for Fox the Finder.

Lastly he is a Devil without doubt;

For when he would lie down, he wheels about;

Makes Circles and is Couchant in a Ring,

And therefore score up one for Conjuring."

In a contemporary tract [36] Boy is accredited with being invulnerable, and he had escaped the chances of war in a remarkable manner. It would be a pity to curtail the extract, as it shows well the political amenities of that age. "The Challenge which Prince Griffins Dogge called Towzer hath sent to Prince Rupert's Dog whose name is Puddle, daring him to meet him at the Parish Garden this present Lent to try a combate before the Worship full the Beares, who are appointed to be their Judges in that Case.——Thou worme of Wickednesse, fritter of Folly, spawne of doggednesse, and piece of mungrele stuffe; in regard of thy base grumbling words and bawling against thy betters. Besides that, is honest Pepper. Tobies Dogge your match, no he is too milde for thee; thou should have given notice of your Treaty and discourse to me who am thy equall, thou shouldst have found enough of me, for I will have thee know, that I eate as good Rumps and Kidneyes as ever thou, base Cur, dost; when I have you at the place appointed I will so rump you, and so frump you, that I will leave you never a rumpe nor yet a kidney, no, not with a heart as big as a hen or chickins: I doe now with open mouth defie thee and all thy proceedings, and doe challenge thee to meet me at the place before mentioned, there will I fight, tug and teare thee in a single combate, where I mean to rend thee in pieces, and be revenged on thee, base cur. And [⁶⁶] although I hear thou art impenitrable and likewise besmeared over with inchaunted oyle, so that no weapon, bullet nor sword can enter thee to make thee bleed; yet I have teeth which I have newly whetted shall so fasten and teare your German or Finland hide limb meale, and then flea thy skin and hang it on the hedg, and give thy pomperd flesh to those Iudges which we are to fight before, (namely the Worshipfull the Bears), to satisfie their hungry mawes this Lent; let me hear your dogged answer, or else I will proclaim thee Coward in print, and set thy name upon every whipping post &c.... Expect no favour from mee, nor will I from you; I will end the difference. I will have no Outlandish cur domineer in our Land. So saith your Surley foe Towzer, and servant to Prince Griffin."

Long after poor Boy's death he was associated with Prince Rupert, for instance [42]—

"See how the Sectists bustle now,

The Independents sturre.

London is tam'd say they; as once

Prince Rupert with his curre."

Boy at all events proved mortal, for he met with his death, after escaping in many battlefields, at Marston Moor, on 2d July 1644; and great rejoicings were made by the Puritan faction over his death. One of the "King's Pamphlets" is entirely devoted to him [43], and from this the accompanying engraving is taken. Here poor Boy, who is environed by a hail of bullets, is represented as being "killed by a Valliant Souldier, who had skill in Necromancy." And to keep up the idea of his supernatural birth a witch is standing by, lamenting. The "Elegie" commences with "P. Ruperts Sorrow."

"Lament poor Cavaliers, cry, howl, and yelp.

For the great losse of your Malignant Whelp.

Hee's dead! Hee's dead: No more, alas, can he

Protect you Dammes, or get Victorie.

How sad that Son of Blood did look to hear

One tell the death of this shagg'd Cavalier,

Hee rav'd, he tore his Perriwigg, and swore.

Against the Round heads that hee'd ne're fight more."

It goes on with a fabulous supernatural pedigree of Boy.

"'Twas like a Dog, yet there was none did know

Whether it Devill was, or Dog, or no."

And after a long political diatribe it winds up thus—

"To tell you all the pranks this Dogge hath wrought,

That lov'd his Master, and him Bullets brought,

Would but make laughter, in these times of woe,

Or how this Curr came by his fatall blow,

Look on the Title Page, and there behold,

The Emblem will all this to you unfold.