V Merry DROLLERY COMPLEAT BEING * JOVIAL POEMS, MERRY SONGS, &c., COLLECTED BY W.N., C.B., R.S., & J.G., Lovers of Wit, Both Parts; 1661, 1670, 1691. Now First Reprinted from the Final Edition, 1691. EDITED, With a Special Introduction, AN APPENDIX OF Notes, Illustrations, and Emendations of Text; And Frontispiece ; By J. WOODFALL EBSWORTH, M. A.., CANTAB. BOSTON, LINCOLNSHIRE: Printed by Robert Roberts* Strait Bar-Gate. M,DCCCLXXV. TO THOSE STUDENTS OF HISTORY WHO DESIRE TO LEARN fljp m Ito nf $ttglan& ; AT THE CLOSE OF THE CIVIL WARS ; THIS EXACT REPRINT OF THE MERRY DROLLERY, COMPLETE, (FIRST COLLECTED IN 1661,) is DEDICATED. May, 1875. CONTENTS. DEDICATION PRELUDE .... INTRODUCTION TO " MERRY DROLLERY :"- I. I. MERRY DROLLERY, l66l, 2. THE BALLADS AND THE COMMONWEALTH, 3. THE WRITERS OF THE SONGS. ORIGINAL ADDRESS TO THE READER . 3 MERRY DROLLERY, COMPLETE, PART I. 5 >, ,> II. 209 ORIGINAL TABLE OF CONTENTS . 351 ORIGINAL LIST OF BOOKS . . 358 APPENDIX OF NOTES TO MERRY D. C. . 363 WESTM. D. . 405 FINALE .... 403 PRELUDE To the Reprint of " MERRY DROLLERY, COMPLETE." " Merry and Wise" the proverb bade us be : " Wise," ruled the Saintly, "but by no means Merry ! " And straightway sought all joy to kill and bury. Marvel not, then, if Cavaliers we see (By ample proof within this Drollerie,) Chose Mirth alone, quaffing too much of Sherry. Merry and Wise ! Welcome be smiles of youth, On lips not yet in anguish blenched or bitten ; Be sportive gambols of each lamb and kitten ! He who would banish Mirth is scant of ruth : Why should grim visages repel from Truth ? Soon shall the joyous heart be cold, or smitten. Merry and Wise ! True text for books like ours, Which tell of troubled times, and men half frantic, Drunk with a short-lived glee, playing their antic. Seek for more innocent mirth, and fragrant bowers That show no reptile-slime upon the flowers : Shun Mirth that stains, and Wisdom grown pedantic. J. W. E. MAY, 1875. EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION TO THE MERRY DROLLERY, COMPLETE : 1661, 1691. Malvolio. " My Masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night ? Do ye make an ale- house of my Lady's house, that ye squeak out your Coziers' Catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice ? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time, in you ? Sir Toby. We did keep time, Sir, in our Catches. Sneck up ! Maria. Sometimes he is a kind of Puritan. Sir Andrew. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog. Sir Toby. What, for being a Puritan ? thy exquisite reason, dear Knight ? Sir Andrew. I have no exquisite reason for 't, but I have reason good enough." (Twelfth Night. Aa ii. sc. 3.) i. MERRY DROLLERY, 1661. 'HEN the four "Lovers of Wit "col- lected these Jovial Poems, Merry* Songs, and Witty Drolleries, not for- getting what are rightly called pleasant Catches, and produced them as "MERRY DROLLERY" in 1661, they gave us no more of preface or advertisement than the few lines following b the ii. INTRODUCTION. the original title-page, and addressed To the Reader. They told us that many of the pieces " were obtained with much difficulty, and at a chargeable rate," and we see no reason to doubt the truth of the assertion. At that time, doubtless, one or other of the compilers must have known particulars of authorship and date concerning a much larger number of the songs and poems than is now attainable by learned students. But W.N., C.B., R.S., and even the mysterious J.G., have given us no help by a single note, and we must do as well as we are able without them. Therefore, it seems not unreasonable, (at the risk of some excep- tional Subscriber grumbling because the meat is getting cold, while his host fumbles with the carving knife), that we ourselves should try to give an Introduction ; as we attempted to do not without pleasant meed of thanks thereafter, from men the world holds high in honour when lately editing the choice Westminster Drolleries. But we are like the Scottish wight who gained wealth and fame, to a certain extent, by displaying to view for a small charge a veritable Golden Guinea at the Falkirk Tryst. Each beholder was delighted at the time ; and the fortunate possessor was elated to observe their pleasure, and to pocket the penny siller that rewarded the exhibition. Alas ! a season of dearth and penury soon followed in his experience, and under pressure INTRODUCTION. ill. pressure of some flinty-hearted landlord, or other creditor, who, like a Polypus, maintained a mockery of existence without any bowels, Tugalt parted with the golden goose that had laid so many copper eggs. The story runs, that he determinately offered himself again at Trysting-time, and was hailed by many of the drovers and stock-buyers with a request to show the guinea, while they gladly proffered the hire-penny as reward. Having no longer any guinea to display, he let them know that he, instead, would show the bag or " pock " which used to hold the coin, and only charge "ae bawbee for it;" expatiating on its beauty and completeness, more than he had needed to declare about the precious metal. Such may be deemed our present situation. Of the Westminster Drollery we deliberately proclaimed " There is no collection of songs surpassing it in the language, and as representing the lyrics of the first twelve years after the Restoration it is unequalled." We do not recall this statement, but are inclined to affirm it anew. What then can we say in favour of the " Merry Drollery" or of the final volume with " Choice Drollery " and other rarities that is next to follow ? Have we nothing but an empty bag to offer ? Our Merry Drollery of 1661 is quite distinct in character from the Westminster Drolleries of 1671, 1672, but forms an almost indispensible companion to that iv. INTRODUCTION. that ten years later volume. It is not only amusing in itself, but as an historical document it is of great value. Of the more than two hundred pieces con- tained in Merry Drollery, Complete, (the edition of 1691, here re-printed page for page, line for line, and letter for letter,) fully a third are elsewhere unattain- able, and nearly all the rest are scarce. In its entierty it was a favourite for at least thirty years, until its political attractions were superseded by fresh embroil- ments calling forth new satires, lampoons, and par- odies, when the Restored Stuarts were once again a banished family, never more to recover the English throne and crown. Some few of its social and mirthful portraitures still lingered in the memory of the people, but new comicalities displaced the old, no whit more decent or refined for a century at least, but simply tempting by their novelty. And now, when most of the old merriment has gained an archaeologic rust, and things antiquated have risen in value by becoming ancient (to borrow a contrast from the late Lord Lytton), we believe that acceptance may be found among students of old literature for this our scrupulously-accurate re-print of Merry Drollery, Com- plete. It should be observed that the few rectifications of a corrupt text are invariably shown, by being held within square brackets, when not reserved for the Appendix of Notes, Illustrations, and Emendations. The INTRODUCTION. V. The only alterations made, additional, are in a few cases of departure from the mere accident of broken words in the original, caused by an insufficient length of line. In almost all cases, even this typographical peculiarity, when extended to words displaced, has been retained. The Editor is responsible for them. As mentioned on the title-page, we follow the en- larged edition of 1691. Twenty-five songs and poems, that had not appeared in the 1661 edition, were added to the subsequent editions ; but they effected no material change in the character of the work. Dis- placed to make room for them, as for other reasons not declared, thirty-four songs after appearing in the edition of 1661 were now omitted. These we shall give separately in a companion volume ; most of them are rare, and only known to us in this most scarce early edition. The intermediate edition of 1670 also deserves notice, but agrees virtually with that of 1691. Among the numerous attractions of our present work, we may mention the rare song of " Love lies bleeding " (found on p. 191) : an earnest protest against the evils of the days when Parliament and Army were struggling for the mastery, and the country suffered from the exactions of both. It is only here that we know of it complete. " Lay by your pleading, Law lies a bleeding," its companion song and model, to the same tune, is also given (p. 125), entitled "The Power VI. INTRODUCTION. Power of the Sword." Such contemporary records as these, with many others in the same volume, enable us to realise the situation. Let us mention some, as being closely connected : " Pym's Anarchy" (70) ; "The Scotch War "(93); " Mardyke" ( 1 2 ) ; "The New Medley of the Country-man, the Citizen, and the Soldier" (182) ; " The Rebel Red Coat" (190) ; and "Cromwell's Coronation" (254); with the masterly description of Oliver's Routing the Rump (52). Nor must be forgotten the burlesque extravagance, by worthy Bishop Richard Corbet, of a zealous Puritan, utterly crazed in fanaticism and conceit (234). This was written in earlier days (Corbet died about 1638), when Cavalier and Churchman laughed at the extra- vagance of the Puritan ; scarcely foreseeing how grim in power would be those stalwart Ironsides of Crom- well, who afterwards exultingly stabled their horses in Cathedrals, hacking wood-carvings of Prebendal stalls with their sabres, burning organs and muniment chests for fire-wood, and discharging muskets at stained glass windows or sculptured saints ; savagely haling men and women to prison or to execution : and believing themselves specially inspired and chosen to bind kings in chains and nobles with links of iron praying fiercely before battles, in which they bore down irresistibly upon the foe that had first in ignorance despised them. Nor INTRODUCTION. vii. Nor without solid value to us are the few humour- ous accounts of Puritans in their New England settlements or infant colony beyond the Atlantic. Though it is framed in mockery, something of an earnest and impressive fervour speaks in the Zealous Puritan (p. 95), who gathers his family and friends together, about to voyage across seas to seek " free- dom to worship God." This was recorded nearly two hundred years later in the hymn by Felicia Hemans, which has for ever become associated with the Pilgrim Fathers of the Mayflower, 1620. Unfortunately, their Puritan followers failed to learn the lesson of Tolera- tion. Unlike Sterne's negro girl, they had suffered persecution, but not learned mercy, or even justice. They ruthlessly murdered Quakers, and others who claimed right of private judgment in religion, and shewed more cruelty to Anne Hutchinson, Mary Dyer, Robinson, Stevenson, and many more, than they had ever borne themselves from their enemies. As the Rev. J. B. Marsden says, of the time when they savagely silenced with drums, and then butchered, the Quakeress Mrs. Mary Dyer on the first of June, 1660, at Boston Common : " The brand of that day's infamy will never disappear from the annals of Mas- sachusetts, nor from the story of the Pilgrim Fathers." (History of the Early Puritans, p. 324.) We may smile at the quaint directness of the narrative viii. INTRODUCTION. narrative, in reading " The West-Countryman's Voyage to New England" (p. 275); but while we smile, we can see the incidents clearly, as they might have been beheld by more friendly eyes. No wonder he was willing to quit the land after he had " staid there among them till he was weary at heart," even independently of the crowning grievance that he " had threescore shillings for swearing to pay." If personal luxuries are to be so heavily taxed it is distressing. We may be sure that he was in earnest when he declared " Itch do think they shall catch me go thither no more." Even the Captain of the Mayflower himself, if we may credit that impartial witness Professsor H. W. Longfellow, had become heartily tired of his pious companions : " Meanwhile the Master alert, but with dignified air and important, Scanning with watchful eye the tide and the wind and the weather, Walked about on the sands ; and the people crowded around him, Saying a few last words, and enforcing his careful remem- brance. Then, taking each by the hand, as if he were grasping a tiller, Into the boat he sprang, and in haste shoved off to his vessel, Glad in his heart to get rid of all this 'worry and flurry, Glad INTRODUCTION. ^X. Glad to be gone from a land of sand and sickness and sorroiv, Short allowance of victual, and plenty of nothing but Gospel." Again, when yielding to the sly humour of " The Way to Woo a Zealous Lady " ( 77), we must be hard to impress if no conviction is formed that even thus dangerous to silly women were many who assumed for their own purposes the Puritan disguise, and were ready to wear whatever mask might be in fashion. Some hidden joke against the Citizens, known to contemporaries, but now almost beyond discovery, enhanced the mirthfulness of even such absurdity as " The Bow Goose" (153). The account of a Fire on London Bridge (87), gains all its gro- tesqueness from being in the manner of pious ballad- mongers, such as framed some of those doleful ditties of Providential Warning and Goodly Counsels that were dispersed on broadsheets to the delectation of the faithful. To us it gains some interest when seen to be the original of the still-familiar and condensed Nursery rhyme : " Three Children sliding on the Ice, All on a summer's day ; It so fell out they all fell in, The rest they ran away. But had these children been at Church, Or sliding on dry ground, I durst to wage a hundred mark They had not then been drown'd. You X. INTRODUCTION. You parents that have children dear, And eke you that have none, If you would have them safe abroad, Pray keep them safe at home." (M. Cooper's Philomel, 1744, p. 209.) Stories of Countrymen astonished at the rarities of London Town have always been a source of glee, and one is here (323), as well as a description of the New Exchange with all its curious ware's, not forgetting the Buttoned Smock (134). The changes in Old Eng- land, almost turned to New (266), and the censure of the Apostate World ( 79 ), as well as the contrast afforded by an Old Soldier of the Queen's (31) and the still earlier description of the defeat of Spain and her Armada in eighty-eight (82), lend zest to the Cromwellian contrast. A few whimsical stories in verse are of the ruder humour which has always been popular; A Merry Song of a Husbandman, whose wife cleverly gets him released from a bad bargain, cheating the Devil (p. 17), or the still coarser tale on a similar theme (no) : a tale that, with frequent vari- ations, meets us often elsewhere. Both are narrated with a homely directness, not unlike the free handling which worthy Mat. Prior delighted in ; and which, we are assured by Dr. Johnson, did not hinder the Poems of Hans Carvel, the Dove, and Paulo Purganti from being, even until close on the end of last century, " a Lady's Book." Well then, by right of way established by INTRODUCTION. XI. by Dr. Richard Corbet, Bishop successively of Oxford and Norwich ( p. 234, and see his " Journey into France," edit. 1661, p. 64), and probably by Arch- bishop Usher likewise (p. no), the Merry Drollery may, perhaps, be regarded as a Bishop's Book; if that be any compliment and recommendation. Even the Puritans and Sectaries would not have objected to it being so esteemed. But they held none of the Drolleries in favour ; Choice Drollery being treated by them with the utmost rigour, so that its rare occurrence now is not anyway marvellous. 2. THE BALLADS AND THE COMMONWEALTH. No good end can be served by exaggerating the importance of political ballads. We may leave the continually misquoted words of Fletcher of Saltoun quietly in a corner, for once, regarding the popular songs of a nation ; inasmuch as, if the phrase he em- ployed means anything at all, it makes quite as much for falsehood, and the misleading of public opinion, as it does for inducing sound judgment. The facts of the case are not hard to discover. Who among us would be willing to accept as final the verdict of some street rhymester or Mug-house politician, even although it found acceptance with a multitude of the gross vulgar ? Your ballad-monger, your inventor of " Cocks," your penny-a-liner for the prints that circulate amidst what we Xll. INTRODUCTION. we irreverently term the Masses or the Million, have so little personal respect for Truth, that they not only are unwilling to misemploy their time in a wild-goose chase after her, but they actually yield a determined preference to falsehood, on account of it leaving them such unrestricted play of fancy as may satisfy their self-conceit. No need to specify offenders. So long as such catch-pennies circulate, and attract attention, the originators heed not what amount of adulteration may have become mingled with a semblance of truth. As the manufacture of a fraudulent account is easier than investigating conflicting evidence, let us not wonder that these caterers for the public give pre- ference to what is untrue. A remembrance of this tendency to falsify ought to accompany our examination of such historical ballads or political songs and satires as may be proffered, as- suming to be important contributions to a knowledge of history. Lord Macaulay, it is well known, was the most skilful employer of the varied hints and details, gathered by combined industry and intelligence, from amid those dusty archives of the mob, broadsides, garlands, penny merriments, and song-books, manu- script or printed. But, it is fair to the memory of that sound-hearted man and captivating historian to re- member, that in most cases he attached no more importance to those fugitive records of the past than was INTRODUCTION. xiii. was their due. They enriched his pages, and gave them colour, but he sought elsewhere for his ground- work and outline. His chief, and almost his only, fault was an obstinate retention of any expressed opinion of his own, despite the weight of opposing evidence that might be afterwards brought to bear against it. He knew, as well as anybody, that a per- son who by some accident or other becomes a favourite or object of aversion to " the many-headed," can either be painted brightly or bespattered foully by the Balladist who seeks for praise and pence, with total independence of all facts or even probabilities. And the prejudice extends much higher in the social scale than we are at all times ready to admit. We greedily accept whatever seems to favour our particular choice, and as willingly acknowledge the sufficiency of any- thing that tells against the persons or the practices honoured by our hatred. We do not, therefore, attach extraordinary weight to the historical evidence afforded by the songs against the Rump Parliament in Merry Drollery. Partizan spirit has been busy, and where such is the case there is always a likelihood that the features of the individual portraiture may be more than a little distorted. But, after making this concession, we think it will be ad- mitted that such materials as we have in this volume, combine fairly with what is told elsewhere by State enactments, XIV. INTRODUCTION. enactments, proclamations, digests, and private diaries or biographies. They reveal a most uncomfortable state of affairs, political and social, in the closing days of the Long Parliament. Not even so large a col- lection of avowedly " malignant" writings, as the celebrated " Rump" Ballads of 1660 and 1662, could show us, so well as our own more varied Drolleries, how men thought and acted, murmured under op- pression, paltered with the truth, sotted and rotted in foul corners, slinking out of danger, and cherishing a hope of revenge or licentious revelry, while the iron hand of Despotism tried to fetter the nation, and sanctimonious schismatics warred with one another for supremacy. Of late days, thanks in great part to the labours of Thomas Carlyle, we have learned to understand what true greatness there was in one man, who alone was able to keep the troubled realm in order ; who both by his own right arm and by his skilful management of others, each the right worker in the fitting place and at the proper time, secured more of success for this our Commonwealth than could reasonably have been expected, when remembering what mutually- antagonistic natures composed the government. As one of our songs declared of that day (p. 167), "We are fourscore Religions strong !" And it is noteworthy that, while contempt and abhorence are lavished on a host INTRODUCTION. XV. host of selfish, arrogant, or hypocritical time-servers, there is a very different treatment accorded to OLIVER CROMWELL. Jests are frequent on his copper nose, it is true, and on his supposed early connection with brewing vats ; the steps of his advancement are satiric- ally chronicled, and his assumption of almost regal power. Nevertheless, it is evident that personally he is regarded with more favour than the hated Harrison, the contemptible Lambert, Hewson the one-eyed Cobbler, the gloomy Bradshaw, or Hugh Peters the fanatical Tub-preacher ; than the licentious buffoon (as he was held to be) Henry Marten, or the prosy and intolerable Sir Harry Vane, from whom Cromwell himself solemnly prayed to be delivered. Even as, in earlier days, the bloodthirstiness, rapacity, and un- bridled lust of the huge Henry VIII. did not destroy the popularity he enjoyed as " bluff King Hal ;" so, it is evident, the harsh discipline and oppressive exac- tions of Oliver Cromwell, with all the manifestations of his selfish ambition and indulgence in regal pomp and splendour, did not altogether hinder him from being regarded with affection among the Cavaliers themselves, who learnt to talk of him familiarly as "Old Noll." Had it not been for the remembrance of one black deed, the written consent he had given in 1649 to the useless slaughter of their King, Charles I., there can be no doubt that Oliver had grown to be xvi. INTRODUCTION. be understood and liked sufficiently, even by those who had wagered their lives against him, to have been accepted as their lawful sovereign, if he had obeyed the satirical command (p. 254) " Oliver, Oliver, take up the Crown ! " It has been the fashion of later years to try and deify many of the inferior actors of that tragic drama, and with prolix exactitude we have been treated to the details of thoughts, words, and deeds of several other Regicides, leaders in parliament if not in the army. But the simple fact remains, that, in these days of the Civil War and Protectorate, no figure stands out as the embodiment of a stalwart Englishman, so entirely commanding the sympathies of after-times, as Oliver Cromwell himself. He was far from faultless, but his rugged nature, his commanding abilities, and a certain large-hearted honesty, even amid the per- plexing intrigues and pious fraudulence of his com- panions, lift him high above the crowd of usurpers. His rude humour was, like that of the first Napoleon, not unalloyed with horse-play and coarse jests : as witness his unseemly inking Henry Marten's face when signing the Royal death-warrant ; and his unsavoury rejoinder when Magna Charta was mentioned to him, as an impediment to some of his proceedings. The extremely rigid formalists were incapable of seeing anything agreeable in merriment; even as other invalids INTRODUCTION. xvii. invalids are afflicted with colour-blindness, or inability to distinguish betwixt the fragrance of flowers and those rank odours whereof Coleridge at Cologne counted two-and-seventy distinct varieties, as indeed he might have done in his own country. But the reputation of Cromwell suffered not through indul- gence of his pleasantries. On the contrary, such unbendings from austerity drew many towards him. His army loved him, like his own family; and the contrast between true grandeur and pestilent incom- petence was beheld whenever he had passed away, in 1658, and left The Gang of rival claimants, who were all proved incapable to bend the bow of the dead Ulysses. The Restoration became a necessity, not so much from a survival of enthusiastic love to the Stuarts as from the intense disgust excited by the Parliament, the Independents, and the disorganised soldiery. These fell, chiefly owing to their own inherent rottenness. How little was done to reward the hopes of those who looked for establishment of a pure exalted monarchy, avails not now to tell. Of the conflict between Oliver and the men who were endeavouring to dispossess him of the power he held, few records surpass in value one contemporary ballad (found here on page 62), filled with exultation over the downfall of the Rump. What masterly c satire, xviii. INTRODUCTION. satire, cutting both ways, we find in the verse telling of " brave Oliver's " rebuke to his old companion : " It went to the heart of Sir Henry Vane To think what a terrible fall he should have : For he who did once in the Parliament reign Was call'd, as I hear, a dissembling knave. Who gave him that name you may easily know, 'Twas one that studied the art full well ; You may swear it f was true, if he call'd him so, And ho*w to dissemble Fm sure he can tell." There is no mistaking it, despite this irresistible gibe against Noll himself, he is the better loved for crushing the horde of public enemies thus summarily. The Commonwealth is divided against itself, and its fall is known to be inevitable. There had been nothing (scarcely excepting his incurable duplicity and con- tinual breaches of faith) which had been charged against the murdered King, during the Civil War and for which he was brought to trial in a dangerously illegal manner, and slaughtered ruthlessly, but what was afterwards perpetrated against the constitutional liberties of England by the men who had arrogated to themselves the right to judge and execute their Sov- ereign. As helping us materially to understand those times, which can never be without the gravest interest to us while we remain a nation, the Merry Drollery, Complete, is truly valuable, and now re-printed. Ridentem dicere verum quid vetat ? 3. INTRODUCTION. xix. 3. THE WRITERS OF THE SONGS. We need not go to Joseph Addison to learn that " a reader seldom peruses a book till he knows whether the writer of it be a black or a fair man, of a mild or choleric disposition, married or a bachelor, with other particulars of the like nature, that conduce very much to the right understanding of an author." " Who wrote it ? " is a question most of us are in the habit of asking, when any book or song gives us pleasure. Let us mention the writers of some songs and ballads in Merry Drollery, Complete. Ten of the Songs are by Alexander Brome, whose gay spirit made him a favourite among the Cavaliers ; his numerous Epistles in verse, preserved among his Poems, prove the intimacy of his friendship with many leading men, Charles Cotton, Colonel Lovelace, Thomas Stanley, &c. Though given to writing Bac- chanalian ditties, he does not seem to have been of dissolute habits, and his Muse is singularly decorous in morals, like himself preferring Wine to Women. A word here or there of plain language may exceed our present forms of speech ; but he never wantonly in- dulges in foulness of thought or expression, and we love him well for his own sake, as also for the friendly labours he encountered to print and publish his name- sake Richard Brome's choice Comedies. Few of these might have come down to us, but for such editorial care. XX. INTRODUCTION. care. He himself was reproached by a friend (J. B.) for wasting his poetic gifts in mere Song-writing : "Why pedler'st thus thy muse ? Why dost set ope A shop of wit to set thejidlers up ? Fie, prodigal ! canst statuated shine, By the abuse of Women, praise of Wine ? Or such like toyes, which every hour are By every pen spu'd forth int' every ear ? Thy comely Muse dress up in robes, and raise Majestic splendour to thy wreath of bayes : Don't prostitute her thus, her Majesty {Like that of Princes) when the vulgar see Too frequently, respect and awe are fled, Contempt and scorn remaineth in their stead." But we believe that Alexander Brome received quite as much fame, and more instant popularity, for this light work in his Lyrics, as he could have won by sus- tained labours at such disturbed times. He answers J. B. (who wrote a Tragedy, not traced, in 1652) : "If making Sonnets were so great a sin, Repent ; 'twas you at first did draw me in : And if the making one Song be not any, I can't believe I sin in making many. But oh ! the Themes displease you, you repine, Because I throw down Women, set up Wine : Why that offends you, I can see no reason, Unless, 'cause I, not you, commit the treason. Our judgments jump in both, we both do love Good Wine and Women ; if I disapprove The sleights of some, the matter's understood, I'm ne'er the less belov'd by th' truly good." And INTRODUCTION. xxi. And he plainly declares that, already, for having written on some of those high themes, "of State- matters, and affairs of Kings/ 7 his teeth had been nearly beaten out by the Parliamentarians. He died in 1665, within a lustre after the Restoration. We feel less certain as to the authorship of Thomas Jordan ; some of the flowers of his " Royal Arbor of Loyal Poesie," 1664, being apparently of foreign growth, and transplanted. But, probably we have to thank him for the clever parody on Thomas Carew, which describes "Pym's Anarchy" of 1642, beginning, "Aske me no more why there appears Dayly such troops of Dragooneers/' &c. (p. 70). We know not to whose pen we are indebted for the delightful companion-songs, " The Cavalier's Com- plaint," beginning " Come, Jack, let's drink a pot of Ale" (p. 52), with Answer to it, " I marvel, Dick, that having been," &c. They lift our thoughts to con- sideration of a nobler type of gentlemen than the roysterers who brought discredit on the King's party. Printed, and widely popular as a broadside, within a few months after Charles the Second arrived in London, they give trustworthy evidence of what was felt and spoken by those gallant Royalists who had so often imperilled life and liberty in his cause. For him their cash and plate had been cheerfully given, their estates had been seized and confiscated by XX11. INTRODUCTION. by the rebel Parliament, and their sufferings had been borne patiently, until the last lingering hopes were dispelled on beholding the personal unworthiness of the monarch whom they had welcomed back to the throne of his murdered father. We mark them retreating, disappointed and disgusted, from the Court, where gilded popinjays, sleekest time-servers, and handsome wantons alone are cherished. We remember an event of evil augury was recorded, that, even on the night of that memorable twenty-ninth of May, 1660; the royal birthday, moreover; when all his Capital was a-blaze with bonfires, and filled with loyal enthusiasm, and when many an earnest thanksgiving to heaven was uttered by devoted Cavaliers who had prayed for him and for his cause during more than ten years of exile the King himself was so lost to a sense of common decency, as well as of honour and religion, that he allowed it to become publicly notorious he was then toying with Barbara Palmer, afterwards the Duchess of Cleveland, at Sir Samuel Morland's house in Lambeth. Thenceforward, all was in accordance with the bad beginning. Female influence en- slaved him, and the most easy and good-natured of all monarchs, whose abilities as well as dispo- sition had offered much for praise, lent himself to such counsellors as not only degraded him per- sonally, but also impoverished, humiliated and in great INTRODUCTION. xxiii. great part corrupted the nation. How gross was the mismanagement, how foul were the orgies, we can best understand by one fact, that those English Caval- iers whose hearts were sound came speedily to regret the triumph of their cause, and almost to lament the passing away of the Commonwealth, which, although intolerant, covetous, arrogant and cruel, had yet been respected abroad for courage and high principle. So much more unwilling are we, generally, despite Hamlet's experience, to "bear the ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of." Historically of deep significance is the dialogue (on p. 131), "a Quarrel betwixt Tower-Hill and Tyburn," referring to the expected execution of the Regicides. There is no mirth here, scarcely any humour even of a sardonic kind ; all is stern, bitter hatred and scorn. It is not a ravening for blood, as though revengefully afraid of the criminals escaping punish- ment, but rather a contemptuous and cruel impatience to cleanse the land from the presence of those who in their day of power had shown themselves devoid of mercy. Nothing but abhorrence salutes the miserable and cowardly Hugh Peters, whose blood, it was felt, would defile the scaffold on which braver men had laid down their lives. The fanatical enthusiast Harri- son, a ruthless tool of tyranny, and probably a mad man. XXIV. INTRODUCTION. man, had three days earlier died gallantly at the same place, Charing Cross, (on i3th October, 1660,) as became one who believed he saw the coming Mil- lenium of the elect saints. On his way to execution, some unfeeling spectator called out mockingly, "Where is your good Old Cause ? " With a cheerful smile, the dying man clapt his hand on his breast, and answered, " Here it is ! I am going to seal it with my blood." As he drew nearer to the gallows, beholding it, he seemed transported with joy, and when asked how he did, replied " Never better in my life," declaring that he saw the crown of glory prepared for him. Sir Henry Vane, we must admit, approved himself to be no un- worthy follower of the ancient stoics and republicans he admired, by the dignity wherewith he made his place of butchery, on Tower Hill become an altar of self- sacrifice. After a long imprisonment, he suffered in June, 1662. His address to the people had been forbidden, and as he himself declared, " It is a bad cause which cannot bear the words of a dying man." Samuel Pepys had witnessed the execution of Harrison : quaintly recording how at being hanged, drawn, and quartered, he was " looking as cheerful as any man could do in that condition ;" and how it was reported that Harrison said " he was sure to come shortly at the right hand of Christ to judge them that now had judged him ;" and that "his wife do expect his coming again." INTRODUCTION. XXV. again." Pepys seems to have enjoyed the view of several other such scenes of slaughter, and indeed all sight-seeing was pleasant to him but he yields steady testimony to the gallant bearing of Vane, who " in all things appeared the most resolved man that ever died in that manner, and showed more of heate than cowardize, but yet with all humility and gravity." Later, he mentions that " the courage of Sir H. Vane at his death is talked on every where as a miracle." And Will Swan declared to him that "Sir H. Vane must be gone to Heaven, for he died as much a martyr and saint as ever man did ; and that the King hath lost more by that man's death than he will get again a great while." There can be no question of the fact that a reaction began to set in after beholding such courage, and contrasting it with the misconduct of those in power, whose loyalty could only manifest itself in servility and persecutions. Let us confess, however, that if there was not to be entire amnesty or indemnity, such men as Hugh Peters were more fitted for Tyburn tree than the block on Tower HJ11 : the rabble rout of rebellion was not worthy of mingling blood with those royalist soldiers who had died valiantly, imploring a blessing on King Charles. A score of songs were added, indeed several of them had been written after the publication of Merry Drollery, the first edition, in 1661. Among them are two, XXVI. INTRODUCTION. two, from his comedies, by " Glorious John," whose hey-day of popularity belongs properly to the date of our Westminster Drolleries. As we pass onward from our earlier choice in poetry, such time as Keats and Tennyson allured us chiefly, with sensuous imagery and artificial trickeries of pleasant sound some of us, whose love of verse is strong enough to have survived the sturm und drang Zeit of youthful passion, and our entrance on the practical business of middle age, feel an ever-deepening sense of Dryden's grandeur. Other men have surpassed him in the ability to harmonize their powers, powers immeasurably weaker than his, and have secured a position in their country's litera- ture by single poems complete in themselves, and thus satisfying a fastidious taste. But of all the great, capricious, blundering giants and heroic demi-gods in the poetic Walhalla, none is more absolutely a crown- less king of the Infanti Perduti than our almost-for- gotten John Dryden. The robust manliness, the sound-heartedness of this sturdy Englishman, against whom faction clamoured loudly, is so imperishable that his most grievous faults cannot efface his grandeur. His worst utterances we are willing to forget, his errors of judgment and of conduct are at once condoned, by all who have learnt to know him thoroughly. His genius was irregular, it is true, but it was genius such as few have equalled. His grasp of power once laid on INTRODUCTION. XXvii. on us, the sustained strength and beauty of his verse, "The long majestic march, and energy divine," once fairly recognised, he is mighty enough to hold us bound to him for ever. He was alike the sociable and homely-attired Citizen, who gave delight to a circle of admiring Wits at coffee-houses ; and yet, when a dress- suit was donned and actors were obsequious, the Play- wright whom a clamourous public set to task-work, loving somewhat to excess bombastic rant and courtly gallantry : whose tragedy queens bespoke their sorrows in rhymed couplets, and whose impassioned heroines threw overboard their modesty, with less compunction than measly pork is cast into the deep within the Tropics. Glorious John ! He could captivate men with his flowing talk at Wills', and no less bind attention to his pages by vivacious criticism in spark- ling Prefaces, that half disguised the soundness of their common-sense by seeming to have been written without more premeditation than his daily gossip. What scores of lesser men are talked about, and com- mented on by learned Pundits, to the world's admira- tion, simply because they are the lesser and more easily measured; while Dryden in unwieldy folios remains comparatively unread, unpraised. Yet was he the creator of the loftiest satires in the English lan- guage, the writer of a manly, masterly prose style, dis- tinct from all preceding, the voluminous author of translations, XXVlii. INTRODUCTION. translations, panegyrics, fables, and odes, beside trage- dies and comedies that enwrap two score of songs delightfully musical, and not so naughty as to sin beyond forgiveness. Even such trifles as we have here from him (on pp. 171, 292) are pleasant gifts that we can thankfully receive. His friend and fellow-workman, Sir William D'Ave- nant, yields us two other songs : One of which helped Mistress Mary Davis, the lady who first sang it, to a reversion of the heart of our inflammable "Old Rowley." " My lodging is on the cold ground," is here, and also another half-phrensied but pathetic ditty, a sort of dirge, " Wake all you dead, what ho ! " (pp. 290, 151). The Anacreontic, beginning " The thirsty earth drinks up the rain," meets us (on p. 22) from one of the three friends who feasted D'Avenant with praise for his poem of "Gondibert" (concerning which un- finished Epic, see the lampoons from mocking wits, on pp. 100, 1 1 8) : that "melancholy Cowley," whose " Essays in Prose and Verse," left as a legacy, and published by Bishop Sprat, 1668, are among the most delicious that were ever penned ; and whose choice " Chronicle" of imaginary Mistresses, " Margarita first possest, If I remember well, my breast," &c., we prize more highly than his ambitious " Davideis," or the " Davideidos." Some INTRODUCTION. XXIX. Some doubt exists as to whether we owe to William Cavendish, first Duke of Newcastle, the lively Song (p. 237) "I doat, I doat, but am a sot to show it." It is partly quoted in his " Triumphant Widow," written during exile, but not printed until 1677. We have it complete in the 1661 edition of Merry Drollery. It is certainly in his spirit, and until the claim of another author to it has been proved by demonstration we may hold it to be his. Fortunately, no doubt afflicts us concerning whom we have to thank for that gay " Ballad on a Wedding," and that mirthful record of " Apollo's Session of the Poets," which adorn our volume (pp. 101, 72). To Sir John Suckling be the praise for verses that never lose their charm. Men jested upon him for his gaudily-attired hundred horsemen, whose tailoring surpassed their prowess and their service in the field : " Sir John got him on an ambling Nag, To Scotland for to ride a, With a hundred horse more, all his own he swore, To guard him on every side a," &c. (Musarum D elicits.) And again " I tell fhee, Jack, thou gav'st the King So rare a present, that no thing Could welcomer have been ; A hundred horse ! beshrew my heart, It was a brave heroick part, The like will scarce be seen," &c. (Le Prince d 9 Amour.) This XXX. INTRODUCTION. This was answered by " I tell thee, fool, who e're thou be," &c. (Ibid. 1660, p. 148.) Some lack of moral or physical courage to repel and punish the ferocious ruffianism of a Court-bully exposed Suckling to a graver censure ; and a degenerate namesake, so lately as 1836, had the vile mendacity to insinuate without proof a charge of suicide. But always by us must Sir John Suckling be lovingly rememhered for some of the daintiest bewitching poems of love and merriment One who assailed him ridiculously in the verses to the tune of "John Dory," referred to above, viz., Dr. James Smith (unless the mockery came from his friend Sir John Mennis) gave us " The Song of the Black- smith (p. 225), having the burden of " Which no body can deny." For fully sixty years men seemed never weary of repeating it. We have another, and much more rare, Blacksmith Song (p. 319) ; as well as two songs in ironical praise of " The Brewer," in reference to stout old Oliver Cromwell, whose family connection with the maltster's trade was no more forgotten than Hewson's with cobbling, and Harrison's with that of a butcher : which trades seemed congenial to them. Two other gallant Cavalier Poets, William Cart- wright and Robert Herrick, are represented here, although only by a brief song from each, charming lyrists as they were (pp. 289, 199). Cartwright had given brilliant promise as a dramatist before he gained fresh INTRODUCTION. XXXI. fresh fame as a preacher, and like Thomas Randolph died young. Still earlier voices are heard echoing through our pages. A few lingering strains from the survivor of that literary brotherhood Beaumont and Fletcher (himself, alas! prematurely snatched away in all the ripeness of his manhood), greet us here (on pp. 92, 109, 196). There is an exuberance of mirth and poetry in John Fletcher that has rarely if ever been equalled. In this he takes after the man whom he loved to follow, and sometimes playfully to parody, William Shakespeare ; even as John Phillips mocked the Miltonic style in his " Splendid Shilling," yet all the while loved the bard of Paradise Lost, and took him as exemplar in most things that he wrote. Ben Jonson, Thomas Middleton, Richard Brome, and Thomas Heywood, dramatic brethren all dead before the date of Merry Drollery -, were not forgotten in it, or left without a verse from each to keep their memory green. To " rare Ben Jonson" is another tribute, however, oddly expressed by Dr. Henry Edwards in the high- flown praise of Sack, with all its embodied transfor- mations, beginning " Fetch me Ben Jonson's scull, and fill 't with Sack " (p. 293). Like many another bard of those wild days, he cannot resist defaming Ale, while yielding a laudation to the Vine. How he finds heresie in hops, and condemns beer to be given to xxxii. INTRODUCTION. to Calvin and his disciples, is not quite clear. It was Luther who, if not misrepresented, told a grievously self-tormented casuist, beseeching ghostly counsel as a medicine, to " Drink beer, and dance with the girls ! " advice which, if the brew were good and lasses young and pretty, was by no means to be sniffed at, except by the degenerate Barebones sectaries or Agnewites. By many a roystering Cavalier (see p. 121) excuse was made that he abhorred malt liquor, from its connection with Noll Crorfcell and his brewery. A reveller, overcome by potations, mentions the Brewer's Dog as having bitten him (p. 255); and another (p. 348) acting anticipatively on homoeopathic theories, similia similibus curantur, recommends a hair of the said dog to be taken medicinally : " If any so wise is, that Sack he despises, Let him drink small beer, ana be sober, Whilst we drink Sack and sing, as if it were Spring, He shall droop like the trees in October. But be sure if over-night this dog do you bite, You take it henceforth for a warning, Soon as out of your bed, to settle your head, Take a hair of his tail in the morning," &c. In one of our songs we find a Lover so addicted to his cups that he prefers Sack to his mistress, and his mistress gives him the sack accordingly (pp. 304, 306) ; she yet shews sign of a relenting, if he will but quit his bottle and be constant to herself. In much later days, we INTRODUCTION. xxxiii. we should remember, one jovial swain defended him- self from a charge of fickleness, by pleading the unfailing smiles of the goblet he loved better : " The Women all tell me I'm false to my Lass, That I quit my poor Chloe, and stick to my glass ; But to you, Men of Reason, my reasons I'll own, And if you don't like them, why let them alone, " Altho' I have left her, the Truth I'll declare, I believe she was good, and I'm sure she was fair; But goodness and charms in a Bumoer I see, That makes it as good and as charging as she. " My Chloe had dimples and smiles, I must own, But though she could smile, yet in truth she could frown, But tell me, ye Lovers of Liquor divine, Did you e'er see a frown in a Bumper of Wine ? "Her Lillies and Roses were just in their prime, Yet Lillies and Roses are conquer'd by Time ; But in Wine from its age such a Benefit flows, That we like it the better, the older it grows." (5 verses more.) "Then let my dear Chloe no longer complain ; She's rid of her Lover and I of my pain ; For in Wine, mighty wine, many comforts I spy; Should you doubt what I say take a Bumper and try." This, sung by Beard, before 1754, or when remodelled in our own days, " They tell me I've proved unkind to my Lass," is as complete a statement of the superior advantages of the flask as could be desired. In Merry Drollery there is somewhat too much about Sack. But it is not unimportant, as indicating the besetting d dangers XXXIV. INTRODUCTION. dangers of the Cavaliers. Their enemies' cannon balls had not damaged them so much as their friends' grape. Nowadays, to our young men, Bitter Beer is the peril. Cassandra gives warnings, but their rock- ahead is the Bass. As Tom Hood used to say of his Lieutenant, "The rock he split upon was quarts." Although, for reason such as the above, Wine gained more praise than Ale, we find that " A Cup of Old Stingo" was recognized as being potent, and " Ale in a Saxon Rumkin" had its Laureate, even in those days of vinous revelry (pp. 140, 164, 259). Chocolate, also, then coming into vogue for public drinking, as soon as the Restoration gave license for more sociality, has a special song in its honour, that we have not found elsewhere (p. 48). And the best known song of moralizing on Tobacco is seen adorning our volume (p. 26). Although drinking and love-making were favourite themes among the Cavaliers, our English fondness for field-sports shows itself in the brisk song of the Angler's Recreations (p. 146), such as Izaak Walton and his friend Charles Cotton delighted to troll merrily. A Fox hunt (pp. 38, 300, 30), Coursing the Hare (p. 296), Cock-fighting (242), and Sir Eglamore's encounter with a stupendous dragon, which carries off his trusty sword for an internal decoration (257), as also the mirthful account of rare Arthur O' Bradley 's wedding festivities (312), help to vary the diversions. Mirthful INTRODUCTION. XXXV. Mirthful rogues chant lustily their own praises, and tell how they impose upon the sober citizens (204) : " The Vagabond" sings of his numerous disguises, as lame, blind, naked, maimed, disbanded, or shipwrecked, nay, even resorting in extremity to the likeness of an honest hawker, "Oftimes to 'scape the Beadles." Pedlers and Gipsies were always musical in their wan- derings from before the days of that incorrigible pilferer Autolycus, whose lay contains so much of sound philosophy : "Jog on, jog on the foot-path way, And merrily hent the stile-a; Your merry heart goes all the day ; Your sad tires in a mile-a. " Your paltry money-bags of gold, What need have we to stare for? When little or nothing soon is told, And we have the less to care for. " Cast care away, let sorrow cease, A fig for melancholy ! Let's laugh and sing, or, if you please, We'll frolick with sweet Dolly." (Antidote against Melancholy.) We are glad to find Autolycus, even at so late a date as 1 66 1, far enough advanced on the path of Reform- ation to confine his frollics to the companionship of a Dolly, whether sweet or otherwise. His earlier choice of his "aunts," when inclined to enjoy the hay field (according to the unquestionable authority of Shakespeare, XXXVI. INTRODUCTION. Shakespeare, at the beginning of the century, if not earlier) was scarcely to be commended. Our excellent friend Andrew Wilson could offer nothing of plea in extenuation, beyond the admission that Autolycus "his tastes were peculiar." In another gay " Song of the Pedlers" (p. 291), beginning Sf From the fair La'vinian shore I your markets come to store," we are brought to what has been guessed at as a possibly Shakesperian relic, certainly set to music by that Dr. John Wilson who loved to be associated with the lyrics of "Sweet Willy." For the Tinker of Turvey (see p. 27) ; for Gipsies and Beggars (92, 197, 196, 230), and for praise of Sailors, Soldiers, and Country ploughmen (162, 182, 338) these pages need not be searched in vain. Less of railing against Matrimony meets us at this date than a few years later, when the Comedies in favour were crammed full of jests against hood-winked or hen-pecked citizens, and all the estimable gallants seemed to take their motto from Rochester, "Never Marry !" We have, it may be conceded, a satirical praise of the Bull's Feather (p. 264), or, in other words, of that matrimonial horn which was not absent from the prognostics of Benedict, who sagely remem- bered that no staff was so reverend as one tipped with it. The lamentations of an ill-used husband (p. 85), who finds his family newly increased after he has been seventeen INTRODUCTION. XXXV11. seventeen months beyond seas, may be read with varying emotions. As Mephistopheles mildly observes, "She is not the first." One determined wife-hater (p. 342), gives an almost exhaustive list of female can- didates whom "persons about to marry" are carefully to avoid. He leaves few to choose from. The expenses of matrimony are summed up alarmingly to warn Bachelors (23). Another singer (p. 302) admits, with an affectation of candour sitting easily on him, that "Some wives are good, and some are bad." The manner in which the chorus take up any reference to their individual help-mates is suggestive of a very closely-tiled Lodge indeed, and no clock-case admitted for fear of accident. It would be intolerable if we found no love songs here to relieve the atmosphere. Gladly we turn to Nicholas Breton's song of 1580 (p. 99), telling of Phillida and Coridon's wooing " in the merry month of May." James Shirley's " Come, my Daphne," and " A Rhapsody," may also be mentioned (91, 7); and the lively ditty, "Come, my delicate bonny sweet Betty" (34). No one but the most rigid formalist need censure the sly fun of the whimsical confession beginning, " I came unto a Puritan to wooe " (p. 77) ; which is perfection in its own way : so dainty and " pawky" in humour that we must go to the North, beyond the Border, to find its equal. As Robert Browning's dying but only half-penitent old sinner admits, in his confessions : "Alas, XXXV111. INTRODUCTION. " Alas, We lov'd, Sir used to meet : How sad and bad and mad it was But then, how it was sweet ! " It is not expected that this volume will ever be seen by any one belonging to the gentler sex (would that they were indeed all gentle ! but we have heard whispers to the contrary ; let us say, in other lands). Two or three pages, here or there, that need not be specified, are sufficiently objectionable to cause it to be " banned and barred, forbidden fare." We may as well honestly declare our intense disgust at such things, coarse, ribald, and degraded, utterly destitute of humour as of excuse. Like King Lear, we need an ounce of civet after compul- sorily fingering them " to sweeten our imagination ! " Students of old literature, we are not so ferociously proper as to utter a war-whoop against every mild impropriety. We do not go out of our way, like some folks of pseud-anonymity whom we could mention, to hunt for naughty words or double meanings. If people will let us go on blindly, deafly, unregardingly, and not poke us in the ribs with their clumsy fingers (as S. T. Coleridge's neighbour at Drury Lane did, quite unnecessarily, regarding Maturings "Bertram "), we shall remain none the worse, and they will be all the better. But our honest acknowledgment is, con- cerning some few things in the Drollery, that if the four original editorial " Lovers of Wit " had exercised a more INTRODUCTION. XXXIX. more rigid censorship, keeping out Sir John Denham's and half-a-dozen other objectionable pieces, the book would have been doubly welcome to nearly everybody two hundred years ago, and now. An expurgated edition is wholly valueless for antiquaries and historical students : If an editor tampers with his original by excision, few persons know where he may stop, or can rely upon his discretion. Scissors are dangerous in the hands of infants or pedants. Worse still, if he leave out six bad things, and in mere ignorance or slovenliness retain a seventh, readers are more shocked and disquieted than when he tells them plainly that he is not answerable for such selection, but preserves the text with all its manifest corruptions. He marks up Cave Canem, with a hint of spring-guns and Upas trees. If anybody wander into quagmires after this, it must be intentionally. One word more : disagreeable as such flaws may be, they are not without historical value, as showing pre- cisely the plague spot and the canker-worm which ac- count for mortality. Here, in whatever is foul, we see the cause of the decay among the Cavaliers. This book was essentially an offspring of the Restoration year, 1 660-6 1, and it thus gives us a genuine record of the triumphant party of the Royalists in their festivity. Whatever is offensive, therefore, is still of historical importance. The bitterness of sarcasm against the Rump Parliament, under whose rule so many families had xl. INTRODUCTION. had long groaned; the personal invective, the un- sparing ridicule of leading Republicans and Puritans ; were such as not unnaturally had found favour during the recent Civil Wars and usurpation. The prepon- derance of songs in praise of Sack and loose revelry is not without significance. A few pieces of coarse humour, double entendre, and breaches of decorum, attest the fact that already among the Cavaliers were spreading immorality and licentiousness. The fault of an impaired discipline had borne evil fruit, beyond defeat in the field and banishment from positions of power. Mockery and impurity had been welcomed as allies, during the warfare against bigotry, hypocrisy, and selfish ambition. We find, it is true, few of the sweeter graces of poetry in Choice Drollery, 1656, and in Merry Drollery, of 1661 ; less than in the West- minster Drollery of 1671, '72 ; but, instead, even amid the very faults and deficiencies, much that helps us to a sounder understanding of the social, military, and political life of those disturbed times immediately preceding and following the Restoration. J. W. E. 2QTH MAY, 1875. Merry Drollery, Compleat. M E R &: DROLLERY COMPLEAT. OR, A COLLECTION f Jovial Poems, Of < Merry Songs, \ Witty Drolleries, Intermixed with Pleasant Catches. The First Part. Collected by W.N. C.B. R.S. J.G. LOVERS OF WIT. LONDON Printed for William Miller, at the Gilded Acorn, in St. Paul's Church -yard, where Gentlemen and others may be furnished with most sorts of Acts of Parliament, Kings, Lord Chancellors, Lord Keepers, and Speakers Speeches, and other sorts of Speeches, and State Matters ; as also Books of Divinity, Church -Government, Humanity, Ser- mons on most Occasions, &c. 1691. [5] 3 TO THE READER Courteous Reader, R do here present thee with a Choice Col- lection of Wit and Ingenuity, many of which were obtained with much lifficulty, and at a Chargeable A 2 Rate ; 6 [4] .To the Reader. Rate; It is Composed so as to please all Complexions, Ages, and Constitutions of either Sexes, and is now Completed. Farewel. Merry [7] 5 Merry Drollerie. A Rapsody. j\0W I confess I am in love, Though I did think I never could, But 'tis with one dropt from above, Whose nature's made of better mould : So fair, so good, so all divine, I'd quit the world to make her mine. Have you not seen the Stars retreat (jrf*. When Sol salutes our Hemisphear, So shrink the Beauties, called great, When sweet Rosela doth appear j Were she as other women are, I should not love, nor yet despair. But I could never wear a mind Willing to stoop to common Faces, Nor confidence enough can find To aim at one so full of Graces ; Fortune and Nature did agree, No woman should be wed by me. A 3 Mirth 6 [8] Merry Drollerie, Mirth in Sorrow. BE merry with Sorrow : why are you so sad ? Let some mirth be found to make your heart If troubles afflict thee, lament not therefore ; (glad : For all men are subject to sorrows full sore. Though grief be to night, yet joy comes to morrow, And therefore, I pray you, be merry with sorrow. With what grief soever a man be afflicted, Unto over-much sorrow be not thou addicted, For a sorrowful heart, the wise-man doth say, Doth dry up the bones, and the body decay ; And therefore I say, both evening and morrow, In all thy afflictions be merry with sorrow. Hast thou been a rich man, and now art thou poor ? Be merry with sorrow, and pass not therefore ; For riches have wings to fly when they lust, Both to thee, and from thee, as God hath discust \ And therefore I say, &c. Art thou pinched with poverty, sickness, or need ? Be merry with sorrow, the better to speed : For God is the God of the poor and oppressed, Commit thy cause to him, and it shall be redressed ; And therefore I say, &c. Art Complete, [9] 7 Art thou close in Prison, and locked up fast ? Whatsoever thy faults be, a God still thou hast : Believe, serve, and fear him, thou shalt never lack, If thou wilt cast thy cares on his back ; And therefore I say, &c. Art thou a Minister the people to teach, And dost thou study good words for to Preach, And for thy labour dost thou sustain blame ? Be merry with sorrow, and shrink not for shame ; Such persons, I say, both evening and morrow, Ought still to rejoyce, and be merry with sorrow. Hast thou enemies abroad, that seek for thy life, Or hast thou at home, a shrew to thy wife ? Such sorrows, indeed, doth a number molest, Those that be cumbred can tell their tale best, For they do sustain many a sowre good-morrow, But yet I could wish them to be merry with sorrow. God make us all merry in Christ our Redeemer ; God save merry England & our Good King for ever, God grant him long years, and many to raign His word and his Gospel now still to maintain : And those that do seek to procure his sorrow, (row, God send them short lives, not to live till to mor- A 4 8 [io] Merry Drollerie, A Catch. AMarillis told her swain, Amarillis told her swain, That in love he should be plain, And not think to deceive her, Still he protested on his truth, That he would never leave her. If thou dost keep thy vow quoth shee, If thou dost keep thy vow quoth shee, And that now ne'er dost leave me, There's never a swain in all this Plain, That ever shall come near thee, For Garlands and Embroidered Scrips, For I do love thee dearly. But Colin if thou change thy love, But Colin if thou change thy love, A Tigris then lie to the[e] prove, If ere thou dost come near me ; Amarillis fear not that, For I do love thee dearly. The Complete. [11] 9 The Hectors and the Vintner. CA11 for the Master, O ! this is fine, (wine For you that have London's brave Liquors of For us the Cocks of the Hectors [:] Wine wherein Flies were drown'd the last Summer ; Hang't let it pass, here's a Glass in a Rummer, Hang't let it, &c. Bold Hectors we are of London, New Troy, Fill us more wine : Hark here, Sirrah Boy, Speak in the Dolphin, speak in the Swan, Drawer Anon Sir, Anon. Ralph, George, speak in the Star, The Reckoning's unpaid ; we'l pay at the Bar, The Reckoning's unpaid, 6^. A Quart of Clarret in the Mytre score : The Hectors are Ranting, Tom, shut the door ; A Skirmish begins, beware pates and shins, The Piss-pots are down, the candles are out, The Glasses are broken and the pots flies about. Ralph, Ralph, speak in the Chequer. By and by, Robin is wounded, and the Hectors do flie, Call for the Constable, let in the Watch, (match, The Hectors of Holborn shall meet with their The Hectors, &c. At io [12] Merry Dr oiler ie, At Midnight you bring your justice among us, But all the day long you do us the wrong ; When for Verrinus you bring us Mundungus : Your reckonings are large, your Bottles are small, Still changing our wine, as fast as wee call ; Your Canary has Lime in't, your Clarret has Stum, Tell the Constable this, and then let him come, Tell the Constable, &c. The Jovial Lover. i. ONce was I sad, till I grew to be mad, But I'll never be sad again boys ; I courted a riddle, she fancied a fiddle, The tune does run still in my brain boys. 2. The Gittarn and the Lute, the Pipe and the Flute Are the new Alamode for the nan-boys ; With Pistol and Dagger the women out-swagger The blades with the Muff and the Fan boys. 3 All the Town is run mad, and the Hectors do pad, Besides their false Dice and slur boys : The new-formed Cheats with their acts and debates Have brought the old to a demur boys. 4- Men stand upon thorns to pull out their horns, And to cuckold themselves in grain boys ; When Complete. [13] 11 When to wear 'urn before, does make their heads But behind they do suffer no pain boys. (sore, 5 The Protestant, Presbyter, Papist, and Prester John, Are much discontented wee see boys : For all their Religion no Mahomets Pidgeon Can make 'um be madder then we boys. 6. There is a mad fellow clad alwaies in yellow ; And somewhat his nose is blew boys ; He cheated the divel, which was very evil To him, and to all of his crew boys. 7- But now he intends to make even amends By wearing a crown of thorns boys ; For him that is gone, but before it be one We shall his humility scorn boys. 8. For all our new Peers are turn'd out with jeers, The new Gentlemen Lords are trapan'd boyes ; Since the King, & no King, would pretend to a thing, Which the Commons won't understand boyes. 9 And whilst we are thus mad, my Princess is glad To laugh at the World, and at me boyes, 'Cause I can't apprehend what her colour command, But it is not my self you see boyes. Mar dike. 12 [14] Merry Drollerie, Mardike. WHen first Mardike was made a Prey, 'Twas Canrea carried the Fort away, And do not lose your Valorous Prize By staring in your Mistris eyes, But put off your Petticoat-Parley, Fame and Honour are covered early ; Potting and sotting, And laughing, and quaffing of Canary Will make good souldiers miscarry, And ne'er travel for a true renown ; And turn to your marshall Mistris, Fair Minerva the souldiers sister is ; Calling, and falling, and cutting, And slashing of wounds Sir, With turning, and burning, of Towns, are High steps unto a Statesmans throne. Let bold Bellona's Brewer frown, And his Tun shall o'er flow the Town ; Or give a Cobler sword and State, And a Tinker shall trapan the State, Such fortunate Foes as these be Turned the Crown to a Cross at Naseby Father and Mother, and Sister And Brother confounded, With Complete. [15] 13 With many good families wounded By a terrible turn of State ; Such plentiful power the sword has, And so little of late the word has ; He that can kill a man, Thunder, and plunder precisely ; It's he is the man that does wisely, And may climbe to a Chair of State. It is the sword that doth order all, Makes Peasants rise, and Princes fall ; All Syllogisms in vain are spilt [,] No Logick like a basket hilt : It handles 'urn joint by joint Sir, And doth nimbly come to the point Sir, Thrilling, and drilling, And killing, and spilling profoundly, Untill the despiter on ground lye, And hath ne'er a word to say, Unless it be Quarter, Quarter ; Truth confuted by a Carter, Whipping, and stripping, And ripping, and stripping Evasions Doth conquer the power of perswasions, Aristotle has lost the day. The Gown and Chain cannot compare With Red-coat and his Bandeliers The Musquets gave Saint Pauls the lurch, And 14 [16] Merry Drollerie, And beat the canons from the Church, The pious Episcopal Gown too ; Taro, Tantaro, Tantaro, Tantaro, the trumpet Hath blown away Babylons strumpet, And Cathedrals begin to truck, Your Councellors are struck dumb too ; Dub a dub, dub a dub, Dub a dub dub, an alarum, Each Corporal now can out-dare 'urn, Learned Littleton now goes to rack. Then since the Sword so bright doth shine Let's leave our Wenches and our Wine ; We'll follow Fate where ere she runs, And turn our pots and pipes to guns : The bottles shall be Grenadoes, We will march about like bravadoes, Huffing, and Puffing, And snuffing and calling the Spaniard, Whose brows have been dyed in a tann-yard : Well-got fame is a Warriors wife, The Drawer shall be a Drummer, We'll be Generals all next summer, Pointing, and jointing, And hilting and tilting like brave boys ; We shall have gold or a grave boys, There's an end of a Souldiers life. A Complete. 17 A merry Song. OF all the Crafts that I do know, That in the Earth may be, Threshing is one of the weariest trades That belong to husbandry. Upon a time there was a poor man, I swear by sweet Saint Ann, And he had a wife and seven children, And other goods had he none. As he was a walking on the way, Hard by a Forrest side, There met him the divel, that Grisly Ghost, This poor man to abide. All hail, all hail, then quoth the divel, I am glad to have met with thee ; What is thy business in this Country Thou goest so hastily ? (man, I have a wife, and seven children, quoth the poor And other goods have I none, And I am to the Market going To fetch them something home. B Wilt 1 8 Merry Drollerie, Wilt them be my servant, quoth the divel, And serve me for seven year, And thou shalt have cattel and corn enough, And all things at thy desire. What shall be my office, quoth the poor man ? I am loth to bear any blame ; Thou shalt bring a beast unto this Forrest, That I cannot tell his name. If thou dost not bring me such a beast, The name that I cannot tell, Then both thy body and thy soul Shall go with me to hell. Indentures and Covenants were made anon, And sealed by and by ; The poor man he to the market went So fast as he could high. And when that he came home again, Corn and Cattel he had anon : O this was some Lord, then quoth the Poor man, For to believe upon. His neighbours dwelling round about, They marvelled very much : They thought he had either robb'd or stole, He was become so rich. But Complete. 19 But when the seven years was near expir'd, And almost at an end, He made his moan unto his wife Which was his own dear freind. What aile you, what aile you, husband, quoth she, What ailes you so sad to be ? You had wont to be one of the merriest men In all the whole Country. I have made a bargain, quoth the poor man, I am loth to bear the blame : I must carry the divel a beast to the Forrest That he cannot tell his name. If I don't carry him such a beast, The name that he cannot tell, Then both my body and my soul Must go with him to hell. Lie still, lie still then, quoth the good Wife, Lie still and sleep a while, And I will bethink me of a thing, We will the devil beguil. Buy Feathers and Lime, then quoth the good wife, Such as men catch birds in, And I will put off all my cloaths, And roul them over my skin [.] B2 He 2O Merry Drollerie, He wrapt his wife in Feathers and Lime, Till no place of her was bare, He tied a string about her hams, And led her for chapmens ware. He led her backwards of all four, Till he came to the Forrest side, There met he the divel, that grisly Ghost, This poor man to abide, (man, I have brought thee the beast, then quoth the poor Thy bargain thou canst not forsake : The devil stood as still as any stone, And his heart began to quake. What beast hast thou brought me, quoth the divel, His cheeks they are so round ? I thought there had not been any such beast Brought up in all this ground. I have looked East, I have looked West, I have looked over Lincoln and Lyn> But of all the beasts that ever I saw I never saw one so grim. Where is the mouth of this same beast ? His breath is wondrous strong. A little below, quoth the poor man, His mouth stands all along. That Complete. 2 1 That is a mad mouth, then quoth the divel, It has neither cheeks nor chin, Nay has but one eye in his head, And his sight is wondrous dim. If his mouth had stood but overthwart, As it stands all a-length, I would have thought it some Whale fish Was taken by some mans strength. How many more hast thou, quoth the divel, How many more of this kind ? I have seven more, then quoth the poor man, But I left them all behind. If thou hast seven more of these beasts, The truth to thee I tell, Thou hast beasts enough to scare both me, And all the devils in hell. Here take thy Indentures and Covenants too, I'll have nothing to do with thee, The poor man he went home with his wife, And they lived full merrily. B 3 On 22 Merry Dr oiler ie. On Drinking, out of Anacrion. THe thirsty Earth drinks up the Rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again; The Plants suck in the Earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair. The sea it self, (which one would think Should have but little need to drink,) Drinks ten thousand Rivers up, So fill'd that they o'reflow the cup. The busie Sun, as one would guess By's drunken fiery face, no less Drinks up the sea, and when that's done, The Moon and Stars drinks up the Sun. They drink, and dance by their own light, They drink and Revel all the night ; Nothing in Nature's sober found But an eternall health goes round : Fill up the boale, and fill it high, Fill all the glasses here : for why Should every creature drink but I ? Thou man of moralls, tell me why. The Complete. 23 The Married Estate, or Advice to Batchelors and Maids. -^* 1 i ^J*^r O freind and to foe T To all that I know That to marriage estate do prepare ; Remember your days In severall ways Are troubled with sorrow and care : For he that doth look In the married mans book, And read but his Items all over, Shall find them to come At length to a sum Shall empty Purse, Pocket, and Coffer : In the pastimes of love, When their labours do prove, And the Fruit beginneth to kick, For this, and for that, And I know not for what, The woman must have, or be sick. There's Item set down, For a loose-bodied Gown, In her longing, you must not deceive her ; For a Bodkin, a Ring, Or the other fine thing, B 4 For 24 Merry Drollerie, For a Whisk, a scarf, or a Beaver, [.] Deliver'd and well, Who is't cannot tell, Thus while the Childe lies at the Nipple, There's Item for wine, And Gossips so fine, And Sugar to sweeten their Tipple : There's Item I hope, For water and sope, There's Item for Fire and Candle, For better for worse, There's Item for Nurse, The Babe to dress and to dandle. When swadled in lap, There's Item for Pap, And Item for Pot, Pan, and Ladle ; A Corral with Bells, Which custom compells, And Item ten Groats for a Cradle ; With twenty odd knacks, Which the little one lacks, And thus doth thy pleasure bewray thee : But this is the sport, In Country and Court, Then let not these pastimes betray thee. The Complete. 25 The Fashions. THe Turk in Linnen wraps his head, The Persian he's in Lawn too ; The Rush with sable furs his Cap, And change will not be drawn to ; The Spaniard constant to his block, The French inconstant ever, But of all the Felts that may be felt Give me the English Beaver. The German loves the Cony-Wool, The Irish man his shag too ; Some love the rough, and some the smooth ; [delete.] The Welsh his Monmouth use to Wear And of the same will brag too ; Some loves the rough, and some the smooth, Some great and others small things : But O the liquorish English man He loves to deal in all things. The Rush drinks quass, Dutch Rubrick beer, And that is strong and mighty ; The Brittain he Metheglin quaffs, The Irish Aqua Vitcz ; The French affects the Orlian Grape, The Spaniard takes his Sherry, The 26 Merry Dr oiler ie, The English none of these can shape, ['scape] But with them all make merry. The Italian in his High Chippin, [ ner ] Scotch Lass, and comely Fro too ; The Spanish Don a French Maddam [Donna,] He will not fear to go to ; Nothing so full of hazard, dread, Nought lives above the Center : No health, no fashion, wine, nor wench Your English dare not venter. On Tobacco. TObacco that is withered quite Grown in the morning, cut down at night, Shews thy decay, All flesh is hay ; Thus think, then drink Tobacco. And when the smoak ascends on high, Think all thou seest is Vanity Of earthly stuff, Blown with a puff; Thus think, then drink Tobacco. And when the Pipes be fouPd within, Behold the soul defiFd with sin, To Complete. 27 To Purge with fire He doth require ; Thus think, then drink Tobacco. As for the ashes left behind, They fitly serve to put 's in mind, That unto dust Return we must ; Thus think, then drink Tobacco. The Tinker of Turvey. THere was a Jovial Tinker Dwelt in the Town of Turvey, And he could patch a Kettle well, Though his humours were but scurvy ; Still would he sing, tarra ring, tarra ring Tinke, Room for a Jovial Tinker, He'll stop one hole and make two, Is not this a Jovial Tinker ? He was as good a fellow As Smug, which mov'd much laughter ; You'd hardly think how in his drink, He would beat his wife and daughter ; Still would he sing, 6% He 28 Merry Drollerie, He walks about the Country, With Pike-staff, and with Butchet, Drunk as a Rat, you'd hardly wot That drinking so he could trudge it ; Still would he sing, &>c. There's none of his profession, That hath such skill in mettle, For he could mend the frying-pan, The Skillet or the Kettle ; Still would he sing, &c. To toss the Jolly tankard, The black pot and the pitcher, No Ale or beer to him was dear, To make his nose the richer, Still would he, &>c. He'd tink betime i' th' morning Before the break of day, For drinking dry he was willing, To the Ale-house he went his way ; Still would he, &c. He knockt so roundly at the door, Which made them all to waken : Who's there, quoth the maid ? It's I, he said ; It's the Tinker foul, I'll take him ; Still would he sing, tarra ring, tarra ring Tinke, Room Complete. 29 Room for a Jovial Tinker, He'll stop one hole, and make two, Is not this a Jovial Tinker ? Nonsence. NOw Gentlemen, if you will hear Strange news, as I shall tell you, Where ere you go, both far and near, You may boldly say 'tis true. When Charing CTQSS was a little boy, He was sent to Rumford to buy swine ; His mother made cheese, he drank the whay, He never lov'd strong beer, Ale, nor wine. When all the things in England died, [? Kings] That very year fell such a chance, That Salisbury plain would on horseback ride, And Paris Garden carry the news to France. When all the Laywers they did Plead [Lawyers] All for love, and nought for gain ; Then 'twas a Joyful world indeed ; The blew bore of Dover fetcht apples out of Spain. When Landlords let their farms cheap, Because their tenant paid so dear The I lu- m.m in thr Moon nude ('///// Ami bid the seven slurs to eat good eheur, NYithont a UtoU't or Com rati-liei /'.;/.. \ Chun h N.iul \\.i-. m-vei luv , Thou was my l.oid Mayor a house tlutrhei, Wlurh was a wondious si^ht lo sc-e dul MMIII on !hr Thanh-.. And sworoall ihioves to l>i* just and line , The SUUUUMS ,iuil Uavhlls VN*'I^ V honesl nu n. \u.l IVase -nul l.ii on ih.il \ eai it sne \\hrn r\v'i\ tuau had .< 'jnuM \\iU\ I'h.n t\v'\ v'i ouU oni v- Kl o! i huk- 1 ink ri i M . . i , 1 > VMU 1 .ill '.t i ilv\ Uo ; -led .1 Ti; 1 . in .1 Niu- ( 'ows huU- T M le I hint i - up. I'lu- lunU r- up. And now \( is almost day. Aiul lu* th.u's ,lu*il \\ith .\uotluM m.m . w I (' tuur (o jyt him ,u\ ,i\ AH ; i .'/// M .S''///,//rV <>/ tit S XI' Mil old SollldlCI ol Ilir H .. \ / \\'ilh MII old moll. ^ . 0,1 Mild .. n ....in. .M no.. . And MII old |. 1 1 in lliil, oiil M! llx dhows, And MII old cm ol liooi . di.ivvn on \\iMn.iii ho.. .lull \\ilh Mj'jy. nr.lr.nl o| |o, And MII old Sotildin ol Mi. MM, . M And UK- MM. . n ..Id Sonldici \\'iih .in old nr.ly swoid Mi.il . h.n I I wiih Now., And Mil old d. );;'< I lo M .n. .iw.iy |hr < low.. \nd Mil old hol:x- Mi.il n , I . .1 . IK ;.. And .in < *ld ,.i< I. II. i h.ii n. > in. in I n. > And MII old Soiildn i <>l Mi. < >H. . M And M.. ( >u. , n , old : .oiildici \Vilh In . old u. I . in l'.r-hl\ I-. it-lil , \\dll. h hr I. . ov. I'd. ..I /..,.,' i hj-Jll Will) .III old T.l ,|M.| | lh.il ni'Vi I WMS M .id, TIlMl in hr. old llMvds '.I I h n ; .il '.I. .id , And MII old ' ...ill, ih i ol Mi. < hi. . n \nd ill. MM. . n. old : ...nidi, i \\ ill. hr. old ( .UN, Mild hr. H.inddirr., And Mil old h< .id |ih . . lo I , < |) \\.IMM hr. < .11 Willi .in old .hit I r. j-iouii lo vvi.i. I With 32 Merry Drollerie, With a huge Louse, With a great list on his back, Is able to carry a Pedler and his Pack ; And an old souldier of the Queens, And the Queens old souldier. With an old Quean to lie by his side, That in old time had been pockifi'd ; He's now rid to Bohemia to fight with his foes, And he swears by his Valour he'll have better cloaths, Or else he'll lose legs, arms, fingers, and toes, And he'll come again, when no man knows, And an old souldier of the Queens, And the Queen's old souldier. *^Lj Advice to Bachelours IF thou wilt know how to chuse a shrew, Come listen unto me, I'll tell you the signs, and the very very lines Of Loves Physiognomy. If her hair be brown, with a flaxen crown, And grac'd with a nutmeg hue, Both day and night, she's best for delight, And her colour everlasting true. If her forehead be high, with a rolling eye, And lips that will sweetly melt : The Complete. 3 3 The thing below is better you know, Although it be oftner felt. If her hair be red, she'll sport in the bed, But take heed of the danger though : For if she carry fire in her upper attire, What a divel doth she carry below ? If her hair be yellow, she'll tempt each fellow ; In the Immanuel Colledge : For she that doth follow the colour of Apollo, May be like him in zeal and knowledge. If she be pale, and a Virgin stale, Inclin'd to the sickness green : Some raw fruit give her, to open her liver, Her stomack, and the thing between. If her Nose be long, and sharp as her Tongue, Take heed of a desperate maid : For she that will swagger with an incurable dagger With stab and a kissing betray'd. If her face and her neck have here and there a speck, Ne'er stick, but straight you go stride her : For it hath been try'd and never denied, Such flesh ne'er fails the Rider. c If 34 Merry Drollerie, If none of these thy fancy will please, Go seek thy complexion store, And take for thy saint a Lady that will paint, Such beauties thou maist adore. If beauty do write in her face red and white, And Cupid his flowers there breed, It Pleaseth the eye, but the rose will dye, As soon as it runs to seed. Fond Love. COme my delicate bonny sweet Betty, Let's dally a while in the shade, Where the Sun by degrees shines through the trees, And the wind blows through the Glade ; Where Telons her Lover is graced, [Tellus ?] And richly adorned with green, And the amorous boy with her mother did toy, And the Uncan never was seen ; There we may enjoy modest pleasure, As kissing and merry discourse, And never controul a modest sweet soul, For love is a thing of great force. The green grass shall be thy Pillow To comfort thy spherical head, And my arms shall enjoin my love so divine, And Complete. 3 5 And the earth shall be thy bed ; Thy mantle of fairest flowers, My coat shall thy coverlet be, And the whistling wind shall sing to our mind, O dainty sweet Lullaby. Old Eolus shall be thy Rocker, With his gentle murmuring noise, And loves mirtle tree shall thy Canopy be ; And the birds harmonious voice Shall bring us into a sweet slumber, While I in thy bosome do rest, And give thee such bliss by that, and by As by poetry can't be exprest. While thy cherry cheek pleaseth in touching, And in smelling her oderous breath ; Her beauty in my sight, and her voice my delight, Oh my sweets are cast beneath ; Thus ravished with the contentment In more than a lover exprest, And think when I am here, I am in a sphear, And more than immortally blest. And thus with my mutual coying My love doth me sweetly embrace ; With my hands in her hair, and her fingers so rare, And her playing with my face, We reapt the most happy contentment c 2 That 36 Merry Dr oiler ie, That ever two Lovers did find ; What women did see but my Love and me, Would say, that we use to be kind. Grinning Honour. NAY prithee don't fly me, but sit thee down by me, For I cannot endure the man that's demure, A pox on your Worships and Sirs ; Your conjeys and trips, With your legs and your lips, Your Madams and Lords, With such finical words, With a complement you bring, Which concerneth no thing You may keep for the Gown and the furs. For at the beginning, &