Volume 5 — A Young Man’s WILL.
Reading edition
[Listen]
A Young Man sick and like to die, His last Will being written found; I give my Soul to God on high, And my Body to the Ground: Unto some Church-men do I give, Base Minds to greedy Lucre bent; Pride and Ambition whilst they live, By this my Will and Testament. Item. Poor folks brown Bread I give, And eke bare Bones, with hungry Cheeks; Toil and Travel whilst they live, And to feed on Roots and Leeks: Item. To Rich Men I bestow, High Looks, low Deeds, and Hearts of Flint; And that themselves they seldom know, By this, &c. Proud stately Courtiers do I Will, Two Faces in one Head to wear, For Great Men Bribes, I think most fit, Pride and Oppression through the Year: Tenants I give them leave to lose, And Landlords for to raise their Rent; Rogues to Fawn, Collogue and glose, By this, &c. Item. To Soldiers for their Fees, I give them Wounds their Bodies full; And for to beg on bended Knees, With Cap in Hand to every Gull: Item. I will poor Scholars have, For all their Pains and Travel spent: Raggs, Jaggs, and Taunts of every Knave, By this my Will and Testament. To Shoemakers I grant this Boon, Which Mercury gave them once before; Altho’ they earn two Pence by Noon, To spend e’er Night two Groats and more: And Blacksmiths when the Work is done, I give to them incontinent, To drink two Barrels with a Bun, By this my Will and Testament. To Weavers swift, this do I leave, Against that may beseem them well: That they their good Wives do deceive, Bring home a Yard and steal an Ell: And Taylors too must be set down, A Gift to give them I am bent; To cut four Sleeves to every Gown, By this, &c. To Tavern haunters grant I more, Red Eyes, Red Nose, and Stinking Breath; And Doublets foul with drops before, And foul Shame until their Death: And Gamesters that will never leave, Before their Substance be all spent; The Wooden Dagger I bequeath, By this, &c. To common Fidlers I Will that they, Shall go in poor and thread-bare Coats; And at most places where they Play, To carry away more Tunes than Groats: To wand’ring Players I do give, Before their Substance be all spent; Proud Silk’n Beggars for to live, By this, &c. To Wenching Smell-smocks give I these, Dead looks, gaunt purrs, and crasy Back; And now and then the foul Disease, Such as Gill gave to Jack; To Parretors I give them clear, For all their Toil and Travel spent; The Devil away such Knaves to bear, By this my Will and Testament. I Will that Cutpurses haunt all Fairs, And thrust among the thickest Throng; That neither Purse nor Pocket spare, But what they get to bear along: But if they Falter in their Trade, And so betray their bad intent; I give them Tyburn for their share, By this my Will and Testament. To serving Men I give this Gift, That when their Strength is once decay’d; The Master of such Men do shift, As Horsemen do a toothless Jade: Item. I give them leave to Pine, For all their Service so ill spent: And with Duke Humphry for to Dine, By this, &c. Item. To Millers I Grant withal, That they Spare, nor Poke, nor Sack; But with Grist, so e’er befal, They Grind a Strike, and steal a Peck: I Will that Butchers Huff their Meat, And sell a lump of Ramish scent; For Weather Mutton good and sweet, By this, &c. I Will Ale Wives punish their Guests, With hungry Cakes and little Canns; And Barm their Drink with new found Yeest, Such as is made of Pispot Grounds: And she that meaneth for to Gain, And in her House have Money spent, I Will she keep a pretty Punck, By this my Will and Testament. To jealous Husbands I do grant, Lack of Pleasure, want of Sleep; That Lanthorn Horns they never want, Tho’ ne’er so close their Wives they keep: And for their Wives, I Will that they, The closer up that they are pent; The closer still they seek to Play, By this my Will and Testament. For Swearing Swaggerers nought is left, To give them for a parting Blow; But leaving off of damned Oaths, And that of them I will bestow: Item. I give them for their Pain, That when all Hope and Livelihood’s spent, A Wallet or a Hempen Chain, By this &c. Time and longest Livers do I make, The Supervisor of my Will: My Gold and Silver let them take, That will dig for’t in Malvein Hill.
