EXTRA SONGS & POEMS, IN Merry Drollery, 1661: (Omitted from the Editions of 1670, 1691, when New Songs were substituted for them.)

A Puritan of late, And eke a holy Sister, A Catechizing sate, And fain he would have kist her For his Mate. But she a Babe of grace, A Child of reformation, Thought kissing a disgrace, A Limbe of prophanation In that place. He swore by yea and nay [fol. 2b.] He would have no denial, The Spirit would it so, She should endure a tryal Ere she go. Why swear you so, quoth she? Indeed, my holy Brother, You might have forsworn be Had it been to another[,] Not to me. He laid her on the ground, His Spirits fell a ferking, Her Zeal was in a sound, [i.e. swoon,] He edified her Merkin Upside down. And when their leave they took, And parted were asunder, My Muse did then awake, And I turn’d Ballad-monger For their sake.

I dreamt my Love lay in her bed, It was my chance to take her, Her arms and leggs abroad were spread, She slept, I durst not wake her; O pitty it were, that one so rare Should crown her head with willow: The Tresses of her golden hair Did crown her lovely Pillow. [al. lect., Did kisse] Me thought her belly was a hill Much like a mount of pleasure, At foot thereof there springs a well, The depth no man can measure; About the pleasant Mountain head There grows a lofty thicket, Whither two beagles travelled To rouze a lively Pricket. They hunted him with chearful cry About that pleasant Mountain, Till he with heat was forc’d to fly And slip into that Fountain; The Dogs they follow’d to the brink, And there at him they baited: They plunged about and would not sink, [p. 12.] His coming out they waited. Then forth he came as one half lame, All very faint and tired, Betwixt her legs he hung his head, As heavy heart desired; My dogs then being refresht again, And she of sleep bereaved, She dreamt she had me in her arms, And she was not deceived.

Now Lambert’s sunk, and valiant M—— [Monk] Does ape his General Cromwel, And Arthur’s Court, cause time is short, Does rage like devils from hell; Let’s mark the fate and course of State, Who rises when t’other is sinking, And believe when this is past ’Twill be our turn at last To bring the Good Old Cause by drinking. First, red nos’d Nol he swallowed all, His colour shew’d he lov’d it: But Dick his Son, as he were none, Gav’t off, and hath reprov’d it; But that his foes made bridge of’s nose, And cry’d him down for a Protector, Proving him to be a fool that would undertake to rule And not drink and fight like Hector. The Grecian lad he drank like mad, [p. 13.] Minding no work above it; And Sans question kill’d Ephestion Because he’d not approve it; He got command where God had land, And like a Maudlin Yonker, When he tippled all and wept, he laid him down to sleep, Having no more Worlds to conquer. Rump-Parliament would needs invent An Oath of abjuration, But Obedience and Allegiance are now come into fashion: Then here’s a boul with heart and soul To Charles, and let all say Amen to ’t; Though they brought the Father down From a triple Kingdom Crown, We’ll drink the Son up again to ’t.

Riding to London, on Dunstable way I met with a Maid on Midsummer day, Her Eyes they did sparkle like Stars in the sky, Her face it was fair, and her forehead was high: The more I came to her, the more I did view her, The better I lik’d her pretty sweet face, [p. 15.] I could not forbear her, but still I drew near her, And then I began to tell her my case: Whither walk’st thou, my pretty sweet soul? She modestly answer’d to Hockley-i’th’-hole. I ask’d her her business; she had a red cheek, She told me, she went a poor service to seek; I said, it was pitty she should leave the City, And settle her self in a Country Town; She said it was certain it was her hard fortune To go up a maiden, and so to come down. With that I alighted, and to her I stept, I took her by th’ hand, and this pretty maid wept; Sweet[,] weep not, quoth I: I kist her soft lip; I wrung her by th’ hand, and my finger she nipt; So long there I woo’d her, such reasons I shew’d her, That she my speeches could not controul, But cursied finely, and got up behind me, And back she rode with me to Hockley-i’-th’-hole. When I came to Hockley at the sign of the Cock, By [a]lighting I chanced to see her white smock, It lay so alluring upon her round knee, I call’d for a Chamber immediately; I hugg’d her, I tugg’d her, I kist her, I smugg’d her, And gently I laid her down on a bed, With nodding and pinking, with sighing & winking, She told me a tale of her Maidenhead. While she to me this story did tell, I could not forbear, but on her I fell; I tasted the pleasure of sweetest delight, [p. 16.] We took up our lodging, and lay there all night; With soft arms she roul’d me, and oft times told me, She loved me deerly, even as her own soul: But on the next morrow we parted with sorrow, And so I lay with her at Hockley-i’th’-hole.

A Young man of late, that lackt a mate, And courting came unto her, With Cap, and Kiss, and sweet Mistris, But little could he do her; Quoth she, my friend, let kissing end, Where with you do me smother, And run at Ring with t’other thing: A little o’ th’ t’on with t’other. Too much of ought is good for nought, Then leave this idle kissing; Your barren suit will yield no fruit If the other thing be missing: As much as this a man may kiss His sister or his mother; He that will speed must give with need A little o’ th’ t’on with t’other. Who bids a Guest unto a feast, To sit by divers dishes, They please their mind untill they find Change, please each Creatures wishes; With beak and bill I have my fill, With measure running over; The Lovers dish now do I wish, A little o’ th’ t’on with t’other. To gull me thus, like Tantalus, To make me pine with plenty, With shadows store, and nothing more, [p. 28.] Your substance is so dainty; A fruitless tree is like to thee, Being but a kissing lover, With leaves joyn fruit, or else be mute; A little o’ th’ t’on with t’other. Sharp joyn’d with flat, no mirth to that; A low note and a higher, Where Mean and Base keeps time and place, Such musick maids desire: All of one string doth loathing bring, Change, is true Musicks Mother, Then leave my face, and sound the base, A little o’ th’ t’on with t’other. The golden mine lies just between [? golden mean] The high way and the lower; He that wants wit that way to hit Alas[!] hath little power; You’l miss the clout if that you shoot Much higher, or much lower: Shoot just between, your arrows keen, A little o’ th’ t’on with t’other. No smoake desire without a fire, No wax without a Writing: If right you deal give Deeds to Seal, And straight fall to inditing; Thus do I take these lines I make, As to a faithful Lover, In order he’ll first write, then seal, A little o’ th’ t’on with t’other. Thus while she staid the young man plaid [p. 29.] Not high, but low defending; [? descending;] Each stroak he strook so well she took, She swore it was past mending; Let swaggering boys that think by toyes Their Lovers to fetch over, Lip-labour save, for the maids must have A little o’ th’ t’on with t’other.

A Young man walking all alone Abroad to take the air, It was his chance to meet a maid Of beauty passing fair: Desiring her of curtesie Down by him for to sit; She answered him most modestly, O nay, O nay not yet. Forty Crowns I will give thee, Sweet heart, in good red Gold, If that thy favour I may win With thee for to be bold: She answered him with modesty, And with a fervent wit, Think’st thou I’ll stain my honesty? O nay, O nay not yet. Gold and silver is but dross, [p. 33.] And worldly vanity; There’s nothing I esteem so much As my Virginity; What do you think I am so loose, [al. lect., mad] And of so little wit, As for to lose my maidenhead? O nay, O nay not yet. Although our Sex be counted base, And easie to be won, You see that I can find a check Dame Natures Games to shun; Except it be in modesty, That may become me fit, Think’st I am weary of my honesty? O nay, O nay not yet. The young man stood in such a dump, Not giving no more words, He gave her that in quietness Which love to maids affords: The maid was ta’n as in a trance, And such a sudden fit, As she had almost quite forgot Her nay, O nay not yet. The way to win a womans love Is only to be brief, And give her that in quietness Will ease her of her grief: For kindness they will not refuse When young men proffer it, Although their common speeches be O nay, O nay not yet.

1. Nick Culpepper, and William Lilly, Though you were pleas’d to say they were silly, Yet something these prophesi’d true, I tell you, [? ye,] Which no body can deny. 2. In the month of May, I tell you truly, Which neither was in June nor July, The Dutch began to be unruly, Which no body can deny. 3. Betwixt our England and their Holland, Which neither was in France nor Poland, But on the Sea, where there was no Land, Which no body can deny. 4. They joyn’d the Dutch, and the English Fleet, [In] Our Authors opinion then they did meet, Some saw’t that never more shall see’t, Which no body can deny. 5. There were many mens hearts as heavy as lead, [p. 57.] Yet would not believe Dick Dean to be dead, Till they saw his Body take leave of his head, Which no body can deny. 6. Then after the sad departure of him, There was many a man lost a Leg or a Lim, And many were drown’d ’cause they could not swim, Which no body can deny. 7. One cries, lend me thy hand[,] good friend, Although he knew it was to no end, I think, quoth he, I am going to the Fiend, Which no body can deny. 8. Some, ’twas reported, were kill’d with a Gun, And some stood that knew not whether to run, There was old taking leave of Father and Son, Which no body can deny. 9. There’s a rumour also, if we may believe, We have many gay Widdows now given to grieve, ’Cause unmannerly Husbands ne’er came to take leave, Which no body can deny. 10. The Ditty is sad of our Deane to sing; To say truth, it was a pittiful thing To take off his head and not leave him a ring, Which no body can deny. 11. From Greenwich toward the Bear at Bridge foot He was wafted with wind that had water to’t, But I think they brought the devil to boot, Which no body can deny. 12. The heads on London Bridge upon Poles, [p. 58.] That once had bodies, and honester soules Than hath the Master of the Roules, Which no body can deny, 13. They grieved for this great man of command, Yet would not his head amongst theirs should stand; He dy’d on the Water, and they on the Land, Which no body can deny. 14. I cannot say, they look’d wisely upon him, Because people cursed that parcel was on him; He has fed fish and worms, if they do not wrong him, Which no body can deny. 15. The Old Swan, as he passed by, Said, she would sing him a dirge, and lye down & die: Wilt thou sing to a bit of a body, quoth I? Which no body can deny. 16. The Globe on the bank, I mean, on the Ferry, Where Gentle and simple might come & be merry, Admired at the change from a Ship to a Wherry, Which no body can deny. 17. Tom Godfreys Bears began for to roare, Hearing such moans one side of the shore, They knew they should never see Dean any more, Which no body can deny. 18. Queenhithe, Pauls-Wharf, and the Fryers also, Where now the Players have little to do, Let him pass without any tokens of woe, Which no body can deny. 19. [p. 59.] Quoth th’ Students o’th’ Temple, I know not their names, Looking out of their Chambers into the Thames, The Barge fits him better than did the great James, Which no body can deny. 20. Essex House, late called Cuckold’s Hall, The Folk in the Garden staring over the wall, Said, they knew that once Pride would have a fall, Which no body can deny. 21. At Strand Gate, a little farther then, Were mighty Guns numbred to sixty and ten, Which neither hurt Children, Women, nor Men, Which no body can deny. 22. They were shot over times one, two, three, or four, ’Tis thought one might ’heard th’ bounce to th’ Tower, Folk report, the din made the Buttermilk sower, Which no body can deny. 23. Had old Goodman Lenthal or Allen but heard ’um, The noise worse than Olivers voice would ’fear’d ’um, And out of their small wits would have scar’d ’um. Which no body can deny. 24. Sommerset House, where once did the Queen lye, And afterwards Ireton in black, and not green, by, The Canon clattered the Windows really, Which no body can deny. 25. The Savoys mortified spittled Crew, If I lye, as Falstaffe saies, I am a Jew, Gave the Hearse such a look it would make a man spew, Which no body can deny. 26. The House of S—— that Fool and Knave, [p. 60.] Had so much wit left lamentation to save From accompanying a traytorly Rogue to his grave, Which no body can deny. 27. The Exchange, and the ruines of Durham House eke, Wish’d such sights might be seen each day i’ th’ week, A Generals Carkass without a Cheek, Which no body can deny. 28. The House that lately Great Buckinghams was, Which now Sir Thomas Fairfax has, Wish’d it might be Sir Thomas’s fate so to pass, Which no body can deny. 29. Howards House, Suffolks great Duke of Yore, Sent him one single sad wish, and no more, He might flote by Whitehall in purple gore, Which no body can deny. 30. Something I should of Whitehall say, But the Story is so sad, and so bad, by my fay, That it turns my wits another way, Which no body can deny. 31. To Westminster, to the Bridge of the Kings, The water the Barge, and the Barge-men[,] brings The small remain of the worst of things, Which no body can deny. 32. They interr’d him in triumph, like Lewis the eleven, In the famous Chappel of Henry the seven, But his soul is scarce gone the right way to heaven, Which no body can deny.

I went from England into France, Not for to learn to sing nor dance, To ride, nor yet to fence, But for to see strange sights, as those That have return’d without a nose They carried away from hence. As I to Paris rode along, Like to John Dory in the Song, Upon a holy Tyde, Where I an ambling Nag did get, I hope he is not paid for yet, I spurr’d him on each side. First, to Saint Dennis then I came, To see the sights at Nostredame, The man that shews them snaffles: That who so list, may there believe To see the Virgin Maries Sleeve, And eke her odd Pantafles. [? old] The breast-milk, and the very Gown That she did wear in Bethlehem Town, When in the Barn she lay: But men may think that is a Fable, [p. 65.] For such good cloaths ne’er came in Stable Upon a lock of hay. No Carpenter can by his trade Have so much Coin as to have made A gown of such rich Stuff: But the poor fools must, for their credit, Believe, and swear old Joseph did it, ’Cause he received enough. [al. lect., deserv’d] There is the Lanthorn which the Jews, When Judas led them forth, did use, It weighs my weight down-right; And then you must suppose and think The Jews therein did put a Link, And then ’t was wondrous bright. [? light] There is one Saint has lost his nose, Another his head, but not his toes, An elbow, and a thumb; When we had seen those holy rags, We went to the Inne and took our Nags, And so away we come. We came to Paris, on the Seine, ’Tis wondrous fair, but little clean, ’Tis Europes greatest Town: How strong it is I need not tell it, For every one may easily smell it As they ride up and down. There’s many rare sights for to see, The Palace, the great Gallery, Place-Royal doth excell; The Newbridge, and the Statute stairs, [p. 66.] At Rotterdam, Saint Christophers, [? Nostre Dame] The Steeple bears the Bell. For Arts, the University, And for old Cloaths, the Frippery, The Queen the same did build; Saint Innocent[s’], whose earth devours Dead Corps in four and twenty hours, And there the King was kill’d. The Bastile, and Saint Dennis street, The Chastelet, like London Fleet; The Arsenal is no toy; But if you will see the pretty thing, Oh go to Court and see the King, Oh he is a hopeful boy. He is of all [his] Dukes and Peers Reverenc’d for wit as well as years; Nor must you think it much That he with little switches play, And can make fine dirt-pies of Clay, O never King made such. Birds round about his Chamber stands, The which he feeds with his own hands, ’Tis his humility: And if they want [for] any thing, They may but whistle to their King And he comes presently. A bird that can but catch a Fly, Or prate to please his Majesty, [al. lect., doth please] It’s known to every one; The Duke De Guise gave him a Parrot, [p. 67.] And he had twenty Cannons for it For his great Gallion. O that it e’er might be my hap To catch the bird that in the Map They call the Indian Chuck, I’d give it him, and hope to be As great and wise a man as he, Or else I had ill luck. Besides, he hath a pretty firk, Taught him by Nature, for to work In Iron with much ease: And then unto the Forge he goes, There he knocks, and there he blows, And makes both locks and Keys. Which puts a doubt in every one Whether he be Mars or Vulcans Son, For few believe his Mother: For his Incestuous House could not Have any Children, unless got By Uncle, or by Brother. Now for these virtues needs he must Intituled be Lewis the Just, Heneries Great Heir; Where to his Stile we add more words, Better to call him King of Birds Than of the Great Navar. His Queen, she is a little Wench, Was born in Spain, speaks little French, Ne’er like to be a Mother: But let them all say what they will, [p. 68.] I do beleeve, and shall do still, As soon the one as t’other. Then why should Lewis be so just, Contented be to take his lust [? he] With his lascivious Mate, Or suffer this his little Queen, From all her Sex that e’er had been, Thus to degenerate? ’Twere charity to have it known, Love other Children as his own To him it were no shame: For why should he near greater be Than was his Father Henery, Who, some say, did the same?

I mean to speak of Englands sad fate, To help in mean time the King, and his Mate, That’s ruled by an Antipodian State, Which no body can deny. But had these seditious times been when We had the life of wise Poet Ben, Parsons had never been Parliament men, Which no body can deny. Had Statesmen read the Bible throughout, And not gone by the Bible so round about, They would have ruled themselves without doubt, Which no body can deny. But Puritans now bear all the sway, They’ll have no Bishops as most men say, But God send them better another day, Which no body can deny. Zealous Pryn has threatned a great downfall, To cut off long locks that is bushy and small, But I hope he will not take ears and all, Which no body can deny. Prin, [and] Burton, saies women that’s leud and loose, Shall wear no stallion locks for a bush, [Italian ... abuse] They’ll only have private boyes for their use, [al. lect., Keyes] Which no body can deny. They’ll not allow what pride it brings, [p. 86.] Nor favours in hats, nor no such things, They’l convert all ribbands to Bible strings, Which no body can deny. God bless our King and Parliament, And send he may make such K—— repent [Knaves] That breed our Land such discontent, Which no body can deny. And bless our Queen and Prince also, And all true Subjects both high and low, The brownings can pray for themselves you know, Which no body can deny.

Hang Chastity[!] it is for the milking pail, Ladies ought to be more valiant: Not to be confin’d in body and mind Is the temper of a right she Gallant; Hither all you Amazons that are true To this famous Dildoe profession, She is no bonny Lass that fears to transgress The Act against Fornication. The Country Dame, that loves the old sport, Or delights in a new invention, May be fitted here, if they please to repair To this high ranting Convention; If you are weary of your Coyn, Or of your Chastity, Here is costly toyes, or hot-metled boyes, That will ease you presently. Both curious heads and wanton tailes May here have satisfaction; Here is all kind of ware, that useful are For pride or provocation; Here’s Drugs to paint, or Powder to perfume, Or Ribbon of the best fashion; Here’s dainty meat will fit you for the feat Beyond all expectation. Here’s curious patches to set out your faces, [p. 89.] And make you resemble the sky; Or here’s looking-glasses to shew the poor Asses, Your Husbands, their destiny; Here’s bawbles too to play withall, And some to stand in stead; This place doth afford both for your brow, And stallions for your head. Old Ladies here may be reliev’d, If Ushers they do lack, Or if they’ll not discharge their husbands at large, But grow foundred in the back; Green visag’d Damsels, that are sick Of a troubled Maidenhead, May here, if they please, be cur’d of the disease And their green colours turn’d to red.

It was a man, and a jolly old man, Come love me whereas I lay, And he would marry a fair young wife The clean contrary way. He woo’d her for to wed, to wed, Come love me whereas I lay, And even she kickt him out of the bed The clean contrary way. Then for her dinner she looked due, Come love me whereas I lay, Or else would make her husband rue The clean contrary way. She made him wash both dish and spoon, Come love me whereas I lay, He had better a gone on his head to Rome The clean contrary way. She proved a gallant huswife soon, Come love me whereas I lay, She was every morning up by noon The clean contrary way, She made him go to wash and wring, [p. 96.] Come love me whereas I lay, And every day to dance and sing The clean contrary way. She made him do a worse thing than this, Come love me whereas I lay, To father a child was none of his, The clean contrary way. Hard by a bush, and under a brier, Come love me whereas I lay, I saw a holy Nun lye under a Frier The clean contrary way. To end my Song I think it long, Come love me whereas I lay, Come give me some drink and I’ll be gone The clean contrary way.

There was a Lady in this Land That lov’d a Gentleman, And could not have him secretly, As she would now and then, Till she devis’d to dress him like A Tinker in Vocation: And thus, disguis’d, she bid him say, He came to clout her Cauldron. His face full fair she smother’s black [2.] That he might not be known, A leather Jerkin on his back, [p. 135.] His breeches rent and torn; With speed he passed to the place, To knock he did not spare: Who’s that, quoth the lady[’s Porter] then, That raps so rashly there. I am a Tinker, then quoth he, [3.] That worketh for my Fee, If you have Vessels for to mend, Then bring them unto me: For I have brass within my bag, And target in my Apron, And with my skill I can well clout, And mend a broken Cauldron. Quoth she, our Cauldron hath most need, [? verse 7.] At it we will begin, For it will hold you half an hour To trim it out and in: But first give me a glass of drink, The best that we do use, For why[,] it is a Tinkers guise No good drink to refuse. Then to the Brew-house hyed they fast, [? verse 8.] This broken piece to mend, He said he would no company, His Craft should not be kend, But only to your self, he said, That must pay me my Fee: I am no common Tinker, But work most curiously. And I also have made a Vow, [? verse 9. p. 136.] I’ll keep it if I may, There shall no mankind see my work, That I may stop or stay: Then barred he the Brew-house door, The place was very dark, He cast his Budget from his back, And frankly fell to work. And whilst he play’d and made her sport, [? verse 10.] Their craft the more to hide, She with his hammer stroke full hard Against the Cauldron side: Which made them all to think, and say, The Tinker wrought apace, And so be sure he did indeed, But in another place. The Porter went into the house, [? verse 4.] Where Servants us’d to dine, Telling his Lady, at the Gate There staid a Tinker fine: Quoth he, much Brass he wears about, And Target in his Apron, Saying, that he hath perfect skill To mend your broken Cauldron. Quoth she, of him we have great need, [? verse 5.] Go Porter, let him in, If he be cunning in his Craft He shall much money win: But wisely wist she who he was, Though nothing she did say, For in that sort she pointed him To come that very day. When he before the Lady came, [? verse 6. p. 137.] Disguised stood he there, He blinked blithly, and did say, God save you Mistris fair; Thou’rt welcome, Tinker, unto me, Thou seem’st a man of skill, All broken Vessels for to mend, Though they be ne’er so ill; I am the best man of my Trade, Quoth he, in all this Town, For any Kettle, Pot, or Pan, Or clouting of a Cauldron. Quoth he, fair Lady, unto her, [verse 11.] My business I have ended, Go quickly now, and tell your Lord The Cauldron I have mended: As for the Price, that I refer Whatsoever he do say, Then come again with diligence, I would I were away. The Lady went unto her Lord, [12.] Where he walkt up and down, Sir, I have with the Tinker been, The best in all the Town: His work he doth exceeding well, Though he be wondrous dear, He asks no less than half a Mark For that he hath done here. Quoth he, that Target is full dear, [13.] I swear by Gods good Mother: Quoth she, my Lord, I dare protest, ’Tis worth five hundred other; He strook it in the special place, [p. 138.] Where greatest need was found, Spending his brass and target both, To make it safe and sound. Before all Tinkers in the Land, That travels up and down, Ere they should earn a Groat of mine, This man should earn a Crown: Or were you of his Craft so good, And none but I it kend, Then would it save me many a Mark, Which I am fain to spend. The Lady to her Coffer went, And took a hundred Mark, And gave the Tinker for his pains, That did so well his work; Tinker, said she, take here thy fee, Sith here you’ll not remain, But I must have my Cauldron now Once scoured o’er again. Then to the former work they went, No man could them deny; The Lady said, good Tinker call The next time thou com’st by: For why[,] thou dost thy work so well, And with so good invention, If still thou hold thy hand alike, Take here a yearly Pension. And ev’ry quarter of the year Our Cauldron thou shalt view; Nay, by my faith, her Lord gan say, [p. 139.] I’d rather buy a new; Then did the Tinker take his leave Both of the Lord and Lady, And said, such work as I can do, To you I will be ready. From all such Tinkers of the trade God keep my Wife, I pray, That comes to clout her Cauldron so, I’ll swinge him if I may.

Upon a Summers day, ’Bout middle of the morn, I spy’d a Lass that lay Stark nak’d as she was born; ’Twas by a running Pool, Within a meddow green, And there she lay to cool, Not thinking to be seen. Then did she by degrees Wash every part in rank, Her Arms, her breasts, her thighs, Her Belly, and her Flank; Her legs she opened wide, My eyes I let down steal, Untill that I espy’d Dame natures privy Seal. I stript me to the skin, And boldly stept unto her, Thinking her love to win, I thus began to wooe her: Sweet heart be not so coy, Time’s sweet in pleasure spent, She frown’d, and cry’d, away, Yet, smiling, gave consent. Then blushing, down she slid, [p. 149.] Seeming to be amazed, But heaving up her head, Again she on me gazed; I seeing that, lay down, And boldly ’gan to kiss, And she did smile, and frown, And so fell to our bliss. Then lay she on the ground As though she had been sped, As women in a swoon, Yield up, and yet not dead: So did this lively maid, When hot bloud fill’d her vein, And coming to her self she said, I thank you for your pain.

You gods that rule upon the Plains, Where nothing but delight remains; You Nymphs that haunt the Fairy Bowers, Exceeding Flora with her flowers; The fairest woman that earth can have Sometimes forbidden fruit will crave, For any woman, whatsoe’r she be, Will yield to Opportunity. Your Courtly Ladies that attends, May sometimes dally with their friends; And she that marries with a Knight May let his Lodging for a night; And she that’s only Worshipful Perhaps another friend may gull: For any woman, &c. The Chamber-maid that’s newly married Perhaps another man hath carried; Your City Wives will not be alone, Although their husbands be from home; The fairest maid in all the town For green will change a russet Gown; For any woman, &c. And she that loves a Zealous brother, May change her Pulpit for another; Physitians study for their skill, [p. 22.] Whiles wives their Urinals do fill; The Lawyers wife may take her pride Whilst he their Causes doth decide; For every woman, &c. The Country maid, that milks the Cow, And takes great pains to work and do, I’th’ fields may meet her friend or brother, And save her soul to get another; And she that to the Market[’]s gone May horn her man ere she come home; For any woman, &c. You Goddesses and Nymphs so bright, The greater Star, the lesser light; To Lords, as well as mean estates, Belongeth husbands horned baites, [? pates.] Then give your Ladies leave to prove The things the which your selves do love; For any woman, what ere she be, Will yield to Opportunity.

You that in love do mean to sport, Tobacco, Tobacco, First take a wench of a meaner sort, Tobacco, Tobacco, But let her have a comely grace, Like one that came from Venus race, Then take occasion, time, and place, To give her some Tobacco. You —— gamesters must be bound, [p. 23.] Tobacco, Tobacco, Their bullets must be plump and round, Tobacco, Tobacco, Your Stopper must be stiff and strong, Your Pipe it must be large and long, Or else she’ll say you do her wrong, She’ll scorn your weak Tobacco. And if that you do please her well, Tobacco, Tobacco, All others then she will expell, Tobacco, Tobacco. She will be ready at your call To take Tobacco, Pipe, and all, So willing she will be to fall To take your strong Tobacco. And when you have her favour won, Tobacco, Tobacco, You must hold out as you begun, Tobacco, Tobacco, Or else she’ll quickly change her mind, And seek some other Friend to find, That better may content her mind In giving her Tobacco. And if you do not do her right, Tobacco, Tobacco, She’ll take a course to burn your Pipe, Tobacco, Tobacco, And if you ask what she doth mean, She’ll say she doth’t to make it clean, Then take you heed of such a Quean For spoyling your Tobacco, As I my self dare boldly speak, [p. 24.] Tobacco, Tobacco, Which makes my very heart to break, Tobacco, Tobacco, For she that I take for my friend, Hath my Tobacco quite consum’d, She hath spoil’d my Pipe, and there’s an end Of all my good Tobacco.

Come Drawer, some wine, Or we’ll pull down the Sign, For we are all jovial Compounders: We’ll make the house ring, With healths to the KING, And confusion light on his Confounders. Since Goldsmiths Committee Affords us no pitty, Our sorrows in wine we will steep ’um, They force us to take Two Oaths, but we’ll make A third, that we ne’r mean to keep ’um. And next, who e’r sees, We drink on our knees, To the King, may he thirst that repines. A fig for those traitors That look to our waters, They have nothing to do with our wines. And next here’s a Cup To the Queen, fill it up, Were it poyson, we would make an end o’nt: May Charles and She meet, And tread under feet Both Presbyter and Independent. To the Prince, and all others, His Sisters and Brothers, As low in condition as high born, We’ll drink this, and pray, [p. 30.] That shortly they may, See all them that wrongs them at Tyburn. And next here’s three bowls To all gallant souls, That for the King did, and will venter, May they flourish when those That are his, and their foes Are hang’d and ram’d down to the Center. And next let a Glass To our undoers pass, Attended with two or three curses: May plagues sent from hell Stuff their bodies as well, As the Cavaliers Coyn doth their purses. May the Cannibals of Pym Eat them up limb by limb, Or a hot Fever scorch ’um to embers, Pox keep ’um in bed Untill they are dead, And repent for the loss of their Members. And may they be found In all to abound, Both with heaven and the countries anger, May they never want Fractions, Doubts, Fears, and Distractions, Till the Gallow-tree choaks them from danger.

O That I could by any Chymick Art To sperme, convert my spirit and my heart, That at one thrust I might my soul translate, And in her w... my self degenerate, There steep’d in lust nine months I would remain, Then boldly —— my passage back again.

Listen Lordings to my Story, I will sing of Cuckolds glory, And thereat let none be vext, None doth know whose turn is next; And seeing it is in most mens scorn, ’Tis Charity to advance the Horn. Diana was a Virgin pure, Amongst the rest chaste and demure; Yet you know well, I am sure, What Acteon did endure, If men have Horns for [such] as she, [p. 33.] I pray thee tell me what are we? Let thy friend enjoy his rest, What though he wear Acteons creast? Malice nor Venome at him spit, He wears but what the gods thinks fit; Confess he is by times Recorder Knight of great Diana’s Order. Luna was no venial sinner, Yet she hath a man within her, And to cut off Cuckolds scorns, She decks her head with Silver horns And if the moon in heaven[’]s thus drest, The men on earth like it are blest.

From Essex Anabaptist Laws, And from Norfolk Plough-tail Laws, [? taws] From Abigails pure tender Zeal, Whiter than a Brownists veal, From a Serjeants Temple pickle, And the Brethrens Conventicle, From roguish meetings, or Cutpurse hall, And New-England, worst of all, Libera nos Domine. From the cry of Ludgate debters, [p. 39.] And the noise of Prisoners Fetters, From groans of them that have the Pox, And coyl of Beggars in the Stocks, From roar o’ th’ Bridge, and Bedlam prate, And with Wives met at Billingsgate, From scritch-owles, and dogs night-howling, From Sailers cry at their main bowling, Libera nos Domine. From Frank Wilsons trick of mopping, And her ulcered h... with popping, From Knights o’ th’ post, and from decoys, From Whores, Bawds, and roaring Boys, From a Bulker in the dark, And Hannah with St. Tantlins Clark, From Biskets Bawds have rubb’d their gums, And from purging-Comfit plums, Libera nos Domine. From Sue Prats Son, the fair and witty, The Lord of Portsmouth, sweet and pretty, From her that creeps up Holbourne hill, And Moll that cries, God-dam-me still, From backwards-ringing of the Bells, From both the Counters and Bridewells, From blind Robbin and his Bess, And from a Purse that’s penniless, Libera nos Domine. From gold-finders, and night-weddings, From Womens eyes false liquid sheddings, From Rocks, Sands, and Cannon-shot, And from a stinking Chamber-pot, From a hundred years old sinner, [p. 40.] And Duke Humphreys hungry dinner, From stinking breath of an old Aunt[,] From Parritors and Pursevants[,] Libera nos Domine. From a Dutchmans snick and sneeing, From a nasty Irish being[,] From a Welchmans lofty bragging, And a Monsieur loves not drabbing, From begging Scotchmen and their pride, From striving ’gainst both wind and tide, From too much strong Wine and Beer, Enforcing us to domineer, Libera nos Domine.

Among the purifidian Sect, I mean the counterfeit Elect: Zealous bankrupts, Punks devout, Preachers suspended, rabble rout, Let them sell all, and out of hand Prepare to go to New England, To build new Babel strong and sure, Now call’d a Church unspotted pure. There Milk from Springs, like Rivers, flows, And Honey upon hawthorn grows; Hemp, Wool, and Flax, there grows on trees, The mould is fat, it cuts like cheese; All fruits and herbs spring in the fields, Tobacco it good plenty yields; And there shall be a Church most pure, Where you may find salvation sure. There’s Venison of all sorts great store, Both Stag, and buck, wild Goat, and Boar, And all so tame, that you with ease May take your fill, eat what you please; There’s Beavers plenty, yea, so many, That you may buy two skins a penny, Above all this, a Church most pure, Where to be saved you may be sure. There’s flight of Fowl do cloud the skie, Great Turkies of threescore pound weight, As big as Estriges, there Geese, [p. 104.] With thanks, are sold for pence a piece; Of Duck and Mallard, Widgeon, Teale, Twenty for two-pence make a meale; Yea, and a Church unspotted pure, Within whose bosome all are sure. Loe, there in shoals all sorts of fish, Of the salt seas, and water fresh: Ling, Cod, Poor-John, and Haberdine, Are taken with the Rod and Line; A painful fisher on the shore May take at least twenty an houre; Besides all this a Church most pure, Where you may live and dye secure. There twice a year all sorts of Grain Doth down from heaven, like hailstones, rain; You ne’r shall need to sow nor plough, There’s plenty of all things enough: Wine sweet and wholsome drops from trees, As clear as chrystal, without lees; Yea, and a Church unspotted, pure, From dregs of Papistry secure. No Feasts nor festival set daies Are here observed, the Lord be prais’d, Though not in Churches rich and strong, Yet where no Mass was ever Sung, The Bulls of Bashan ne’r met there[;] Surplice and Cope durst not appear; Old Orders all they will abjure, This Church hath all things new and pure. No discipline shall there be used, [p. 105.] The Law of Nature they have chused[;] All that the spirit seems to move Each man may choose and so approve, There’s Government without command, There’s unity without a band; A Synagogue unspotted pure, Where lust and pleasure dwells secure. Loe in this Church all shall be free To Enjoy their Christian liberty; All things made common, void of strife, Each man may take anothers wife, And keep a hundred maids, if need, To multiply, increase, and breed, Then is not this Foundation sure, To build a Church unspotted, pure? The native People, though yet wild, Are altogether kind and mild, And apt already, by report, To live in this religious sort; Soon to conversion they’l be brought When Warrens Mariery have wrought, Who being sanctified and pure, May by the Spirit them alure. Let Amsterdam send forth her Brats, Her Fugitives and Runnagates: Let Bedlam, Newgate, and the Clink Disgorge themselves into this sink; Let Bridewell and the stews be kept, And all sent thither to be swept; So may our Church be cleans’d and pure, Keep both it self and state secure.

Come hither my own sweet duck, And sit upon my knee, That thou and I may truck For thy Commodity, If thou wilt be my honey, Then I will be thine own, Thou shall not want for money If thou wilt make it known; With hey ho my honey, My heart shall never rue, For I have been spending money And amongst the jovial Crew. I prethee leave thy scorning, Which our true love beguiles, Thy eyes are bright as morning, The Sun shines in thy smiles, Thy gesture is so prudent, Thy language is so free, That he is the best Student Which can study thee; With hey ho, &c. The Merchant would refuse His Indies and his Gold If he thy love might chuse, And have thy love in hold: Thy beauty yields more pleasure Than rich men keep in store, And he that hath such treasure [p. 107.] Never can be poor; With hey ho, &c. The Lawyer would forsake His wit and pleading strong: The Ruler and Judge would take Thy part wer’t right or wrong; Should men thy beauty see Amongst the learned throngs, Thy very eyes would be Too hard for all their tongues; With hey ho, &c. Thy kisses to thy friend The Surgeons skill out-strips, For nothing can transcend The balsome of thy Lips, There is such vital power Contained in thy breath, That at the latter hour ’Twould raise a man from death; With hey, ho, &c. Astronomers would not Lye gazing in the skies Had they thy beauty got, No Stars shine like thine eyes: For he that may importune Thy love to an embrace, Can read no better fortune Then what is in thy face. With hey ho, &c. The Souldier would throw down [p. 108.] His Pistols and Carbine, And freely would be bound To wear no arms but thine: If thou wert but engaged To meet him in the field, Though never so much inraged Thou couldest make him yield, With hey ho, &c. The seamen would reject [Seaman] To sayl upon the Sea, And his good ship neglect To be aboard of thee: When thou liest on thy pillows He surely could not fail To make thy brest his billows, And to hoyst up sayl; With hey ho, &c. The greatest Kings alive Would wish thou wert their own, And every one would strive To make thy Lap their Throne, For thou hast all the merit That love and liking brings; Besides a noble spirit, Which may conquer Kings; With hey ho, &c. Were Rosamond on earth I surely would abhor her, Though ne’r so great by birth I should not change thee for her; Though Kings and Queens are gallant, [p. 109.] And bear a royal sway, The poor man hath his Talent, And loves as well as they, With hey ho, &c. Then prethee come and kiss me, And say thou art mine own, I vow I would not miss thee Not for a Princes Throne; Let love and I perswade thee My gentle suit to hear: If thou wilt be my Lady, Then I will be thy dear; With hey ho, &c. I never will deceive thee, But ever will be true, Till death I shall not leave thee, Or change thee for a new; We’ll live as mild as may be, If thou wilt but agree, And get a pretty baby With a face like thee, With hey ho, &c. Let these perswasions move thee Kindly to comply, There’s no man that can love thee With so much zeal as I; Do thou but yield me pleasure, And take from me this pain, I’ll give thee all the Treasure Horse and man can gain; With hey ho, &c. I’ll fight in forty duels [p. 110.] To obtain thy grace, I’ll give thee precious jewels Shall adorn thy face; E’r thou for want of money Be to destruction hurl’d, For to support my honey I’ll plunder all the world; With hey ho, &c. That smile doth show consenting, Then prethee let’s be gone, There shall be no repenting When the deed is done; My bloud and my affection, My spirits strongly move, Then let us for this action Fly to yonder grove, With hey ho, &c. Let us lye down by those bushes That are grown so high, Where I will hide thy blushes; Here’s no standers by This seventh day of July, Upon this bank we’ll lye, Would all were, that love truly, As close as thou and I; With hey ho[,] my honey, My heart shall never rue, For I have been spending money Amongst the jovial Crew.

If that you will hear of a Ditty That’s framed by a six-footed Creature, She lives both in Town and in City, She is very loving by nature; She’l offer her service to any, She’l stick close but she’l prevail, She’s entertained by too many Till death, she no man will fail. Fenner once in a Play did describe her, How she had her beginning first, How she sprung from the loyns of great Pharaoh, And how by a King she was nurs’d: How she fell on the Carkass of Herod, A companion for any brave fighter, And there’s no fault to be found with her, But that she’s a devillish backbiter. With Souldiers she’s often comraded And often does them much good, She’l save them the charge of a Surgeon In sickness for letting them blood; Corruption she draws like a horse-leech, [p. 150.] Growing she’ll prove a great breeder, At night she will creep in her cottage, By day she’s a damnable feeder. She’l venture as much in a battel As any Commander may go, But then she’l play Jack on both sides, She cares not a fart for her Foe: She knows that alwaies she’s shot-free, To kill her no sword will prevaile, But if she’s taken prisoner, She’s prest to death by the naile. She doth not esteem of your rich men, But alwaies sticks close to the poor; Nor she cares not for your clean shifters, Nor for such as brave cloaths wear; She loves all such as are non-suited, Or any brave fellow that lacks; She’s as true a friend to poor Souldiers, As the shirt that sticks close to their backs. She cannot abide your clean Laundress, Nor those that do set her on work, Her delight is all in foul linnen, Where in narraw seams she may lurk: From her and her breed God defend me, For I have had their company store, Pray take her among you[,] Gentry, Let her trouble poor souldiers no more.