Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2007 witii funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation littp://www.arcliive.org/details/clioycedrollerysoOOebswricli Choyce Drollery. JWEUwoTik^.i?;ir f Choyce DROLLERY: SONGS & SONNETS. BEING ^ Colle6lion of Divers Excellent Pieces of Poetry, OF SEVERA.L EMINENT AUTHORS. Noiv First Reprinted from the Edition 0/16^6, TO WHICH ARE ADDED THE EXTRA SONGS OF MERRY DROLLERY, 1661, AND AN ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 166 1: EDITED, With Special Introductions, and Appendices of Notes, Illustrations, Emendations of Text, &c.. By J. WooDFALL Ebswor'ch, M.A., Cantab. BOSTON, LINCOLNSHIRE : Printed by Roderl RobeiU, Strait Bar-Gate. M,DCCCLXXVL if 3OI TO THOSE STUDENTS OF ART, AMONG WHOM HE FOUND iFn'enli0^tp anti (l£nt!)U0ia0mi BEFORE HE LEFT THEM, Winners of Unsullied Fame, AND SOUGHT IN A QUIET NOOK Content, instead of Renown : THESE " DROLLERIES OF THE RESTORATION" ARE BY THE EDITOR DEDICATED. 559307 vu. CONTENTS. DEDICATION PRELUDE . PAGE V INTRODUCTION TO "CHOICE DROLLERY, 1656 " . xi § I. HOW CHOICE DROLLERY WAS INHIBITED . xi 2. THE TWO COURTS IN 1656 .... xix 3. SONGS OF LOVE AND WAR . . . .XXVI 4. CONCLUSION: THE PASTORALS . . XXXiii ORIGINAL "ADDRESS TO THE READER," 1856 " CHOYCE DROLLERY," 1 656 . . . . . I TABLE OF FIRST LINES TO DITTO .... lOI INTRODUCTION TO "ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELAN- CHOLY," 1661 § I. REPRINT OF "antidote" .... I05 2. INGREDIENTS OF "AN ANTIDOTE'' . . Ig8 original ADDRESS "TO THE JIEADER," 1661 . . Ill „ CONTENTS (enlarged} ' .' '.' .**'.n:i' "ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY," 1661 . . II3 Vlll. EDITORIAL POSTSCRIPT TO DITTO: § I. ON THE "author" of the antidote. 2. ARTHUR O' BRADLEY . . . . . . . l6l "WESTMINSTER DROLLERIES," EDITION 1674 : EXTRA SONGS. 1 77 "MERRY DROLLERY," 1661 : PART I. EXTRA SONGS ,, 2. DITTO . • 233 APPENDIX OF NOTES, &C., ARRANGED IN FOUR PARTS : 1. "CHOICE drollery" .... 2. "ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY" . 3. '^WESTMINSTER DROLLERY," 167I-4 . 4. § I. "merry drollery," 1661 . 2. ADDITIONAL NOTES TO " M. D.," 167O 3. SESSIONS OF POETS 4. TABLES OF FIRST LINES 333 345 371 405 411 423 PRELUDE. Not dim and shadowy, like a world of dreams. We summon back the past Cromwellian time. Raised from the dead by invocative rhyme. Albeit this no Booke of Magick seems : Now, — while few questions of the fleeting hour Cease to perplex, or task th' unwilling mind, — Lest party-strife our better- Reason blind To the dread evils waiting still on Power. We see Old England torn by civil wars, Oppress'd by gloomy zealots — men whose chain More galled because of Regicidal stain. Hiding from view all honourable scars : We see how those who raved for Liberty, Claiming the Law's protection 'gainst the King, Trampled themselves on Law, and strove to bring On their own nation tenfold Slavery, So that with iron hand, with eagle eye. Stout Oliver Protector scarce could keep The troubled land in awe ; while mutterings deep Threatened to swell the later rallying cry. Well had he probed the hollow friends who stood Distrustful of him, though their tongues spoke praise ; Well read their fears, that interposed delays To rob him of his meed for toil and blood. A few brief years of such uneasy strife. While foreign shores and ocean own his sway ; Then fades the lonely Conqueror away. Amid success, weary betimes of life. So passing, kingly in his soul, uncrown'd. With dark forebodings of th' approaching storm. He leaves the spoil at mercy of the swarm Of beasts unclean and vultures gathering round. For soon from grasp of Richard Cromwell slips Semblance of power he ne'er had strength to hold ; And wolves each other tear, who tore the fold. While lurid twilight mocks the State's eclipse. Then, from divided counsels, bitter snarls. Deceit and broken fealty, selfish aim — Where promptitude and courage win the game, — Self-scattered fall they ; and up mounts KING CHARLES. June 1st, 1876. J.W. E. XI. EDITORIAL § INTRODUCTION TO CHOICE DROLLERY: 1656. Charles, — ** They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him ; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England, They say many young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.'* CAs You Like It, Act i. sc. i.) I. CHO YCE DROLLER Y Inhibited. E may be sure the memory of many a Cavalier went back to that sweetest of all Pastorals, Shakespeare's Cbmedy of "As You Like It," while he clutched to his breast the precious little volume of Choyce Drollery^ Songs and Sonnets, which was newly published in the year 1656. He sought a covert amid the yellowing fronds of fern, in some old park that had not yet been wholly confiscated by the usurping Commonwealth; where, under the broad shadow of a beech-tree, with the squirrel w Km ~ii*L2^»^^' INTRODUCTION. watching him curiously from above, and timid i fawns sniffing at him suspiciously a few yards distant^ J he might again yield himself to the enjoyment of reading " heroick Drayton's " Dowsabell, the love-tale ; beginning with the magic words " Farre in the Forest of Arden " — an invocative name which summoned to his view the Rosalind whose praise was carved on many a tree. He also, be it remembered, had " a banished Lord;" even then remote from his native Court, associating with "co-mates and brothers in exile " — somewhat different in mood from Amiens or the melancholy Jacques ; and, alas ! not devoid of feminine companions. Enough resemblance was in the situation for a fanciful enthusiasm to lend en- chantment to the name of Arden (p. 73), and recall scenes of shepherd-life with Celia, the songs that echoed "Under the greenwood-tree;" without need- ing the additional spell of seeing " Ingenious Shake- speare " mentioned among " the Time-Poets " on the fifth page of Choyce Drollery, Not easily was the book obtained ; every copy at that time being hunted after, and destroyed when found, by ruthless minions of the Commonwealth. A Parliamentary injunction had been passed against it. Commands were given for it to be burnt by the hangman. Few copies escaped, when spies and in- formers were numerous, and fines were levied upon INTRODUCTION. XIU. those who had secreted it. Greedy eyes, active fin- gers, were after the Choyce Drollery, Any fortunate possessor, even in those early days, knew well that he grasped a treasure which few persons save himself could boast. Therefore it is not strange, two hundred and twenty years having rolled away since then, that the book has grown to be among the rarest of the Drolleries. Probably not six perfect copies remain in the world. The British Museum holds not one. We congratulate ourselves on restoring it now to students, for many parts of it possess historical value, besides poetic grace ; and the whole work forms an interesting relic of those troubled times. Unlike our other Drolleries^ reproduced verbatim et literatim in this series, we here find little describing the last days of Cromwell and the Commonwealth; except one graphic picture of a despoiled West- Countryman (p. 57), complaining against both Roundheads and " CabbaJeroes." The poems were not only composed before hopes revived of speedy Restoration for the fugitive from Worcester-fight and Boscobel \ they were, in great part, written before the Civil Wars began. Few of them, perhaps, were pre- viously in print (the title-page asserts that none had been so, but we know this to be false). PubHshers made such statements audaciously, then as now, and forced truth to limp behind them without chance of XIV. INTRODUCTION. overtaking. By far the greater number belonged to an early date in the reign of the murdered King, chiefly about the year 1637; two, at the least, were- written in the time of James I. (viz., p. 40, a con- temporary poem on the Gunpowder Plot of 1605; and, p. 10, the Ballad on King James I.), if not also the still earlier one, on the Defeat of the Scots at Muscleborough Field; which is probably corrupted from an original so remote as the reign of Edward VI. " Dowsabell " was certainly among the Pastorals of 1593? 3,nd "Down lay the Shepherd's swain" (p. 65) bears token of belonging to an age when the Virgin Queen held sway. These facts guide to an under- standing of the charm held by Choyce Drollery for adherents of the Monarchy ; and of its obnoxiousness in the sight of the Parliament that had slain their King. It was not because of any exceptional im- morality in this Choyce Drollery that it became de- nounced; although such might be declared in pro- clamations. Other books of the same year offended worse against morals : for example, the earliest edition known to us of Wit and Drollery^ with the extremely " free " facetted of Sportive Wit, or Lusty Drollery (both works issued in 1656), held infinitely more to shock proprieties and call for repression. T\\^ Musarum Delicice of Sir J[ohn] M[ennis] and Dr. J[ames S[mith], in the same year, 1656, cannot INTRODUCTION. XV. be held blameless. Yet the hatred shewn towards Choyce Drollery far exceeded all the rancour against these bolder sinners, or the previous year's delightful miscellany of merriment and true poetry, the Wifs Interpreter of industrious J[ohn] C[otgrave]; to whom, despite multitudinous typographical errors, we owe thanks, both for Wifs Interpreter and for the wilderness of dramatic beauties, his Wifs Treasury: bearing the same date of 1655. It was not because of sins against taste and public or private morals, (although, we admit, it has some few of these, sufficient to afford a pretext for persecutors, who would have been equally bitter had it possessed virginal purity :) but in consequence of other and more dangerous ingredients, that Choyce Drollery aroused such a storm. Not disgust, but fear of its influence in reviving loyalty, prompted the order of its extermi- nation. Readers at this later day, might easily fail to notice all that stirred the loyal sentiments of chivalric devotion, and consequently made the fierce Fifth- Monarchy men hate the small volume worse than the Apocrypha or Ikon Basilike. Herein was to be found the clever " Jack of Lent's " account of loyal preparations made in London to receive the newly-wedded Queen, Henrietta Maria, when she came from France, in 1625, escorted by the Duke of Buckingham, who compromised her sister by his rash attentions : Buck- XVI. INTRODUCTION. ingham, whom King Charles loved so well that the favouritism shook his throne, even after Felton's dagger in 1628 had rid the land of the despotic cour- tier. Here, also, a more grievous offence to the Regicides, was still recorded in austere grandeur of verse, from no common hireling pen, but of some scholar like unto Henry King, of Chichester, the loyal " New- Year's Wish " (p. 48) presented to King Charles at the beginning of 1638, when the North was already in rebellion : wherein, men read, what at that time had not been deemed profanity or blas- phemy, the praise and faithful service of some hearts who held their monarch only second to their Saviour. Referring to their hope that the personal approach of the King might cure the evils of the disturbed realm, it is written : — " You, like our sacred and indulgent Lord, When the too-stout Apostle drew his sword. When he mistooke some secrets of the cause. And in his furious zeale disdained the Lawes, Forgetting true Religion doth lye On prayers, not swords against authority : You, like our substitute of horrid fate. That are next Him we most should imitate. Shall like to Him rebuke with wiser breath. Such furious zeale, but not reveng'd with death. Like him, the wound that's giv'n you strait shall heal Then calm by precept such mistaking zeal." INTRODUCTION. XVU. Here was a sincere, unflinching recognition of Divine Right, such as the faction in power could not possibly abide. Even the culpable weakness and ingratitude of Charles, in abandoning Strafford, Laud, and other champions to their unscrupulous destroyers, had not made true-hearted Cavaliers falter in their faith to him. As the best of moralists declares : — " Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds. Or bends with the remover to remove." These loyal sentiments being embodied in print within our Choyce Drollery^ suitable to sustain the fealty of the defeated Cavaliers to the successor of the " Royal Martyr," it was evident that the Restoration must be merely a question of time. " If it be now, 'tis not to come ; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all P^ To more than one of those who had sat in the ill- constituted and miscalled High Court of Justice, during the closing days of 1648-9, there must have been, ever and anon, as the years rolled by, a shud- dering recollection of the words written anew upon the wall in characters of living fire. They had shown themselves familiar, in one sense much too familiar, with the phraseology but not the teaching of Scripture. To them the Mene, Mene, Tekel Upharsin needed no b XVIH. INTRODUCTION. Daniel come to judgment for interpretation. The Banquet was not yet over; the subjugated people, whom they had seduced from their allegiance by a dream of winning freedom from exactions, were still sullenly submissive ; the desecrated cups and challices of the Church they had despoiled, believing it overthrown for ever, had been, in many cases, melted down for plunder, — in others, sold as common merchandize : and yet no thunder heard. But, however defiantly they might bear themselves, however resolute to crush down every attempt at revolt against their own au- thority, the men in power could not disguise from one another that there were heavings of the earth on which they trod, coming from no reverberations of their footsteps, but telling of hollowness and insecurity below. They were already suspicious among them- selves, no longer hiding personal spites and jealousies, the separate ambition of uncongenial factions, which had only united for a season against the monarchy and hierarchy, but now began to fall asunder, mutually envenomed and intolerant. Presbyterian, Indepen- dent, and Nondescript-Enthusiast, while combined together of late, had been acknowledged as a power invincible, a Three-fold Cord that bound the helpless Victim to an already bloody altar. The strands of it were now unwinding, and there scarcely needed much prophetic wisdom to discern that one by one they could soon be broken. INTRODUCTION. XIX. To US, from these considerations, there is intense attraction in the Choyce Drollery^ since it so narrowly escaped from flames to which it had been judicially- condemned. § 2. — The Two Courts, in 1656. At this date many a banished or self-exiled Royalist, dwelling in the Low Countries, but whose heart re- mained in England, drew a melancholy contrast be- tween the remembered past of Whitehall and the gloomy present. With honest Touchstone, he could say, " Now am I in Arden ! the more fool I. When I was at home I was in a better place ; but travellers must be content." Meanwhile, in the beloved Warwickshire glades, herds of swine were routing noisily for acorns, dropped amid withered leaves under branches of the Royal Oaks. They were watched by boys, whose chins would not be past the first callow down of promissory beards when Restoration-day should come with shouts of welcome throughout the land. In 1656 our Charles Stuart was at Bruges, now and then making a visit to Cologne, often getting into difficulties through the misconduct of his unruly fol- lowers, and already quite enslaved by Dalilahs, syrens against whom his own shrewd sense was powerless to defend him. For amusement he read his favourite XX. INTRODUCTION. French or Italian authors, not seldom took long walks, and indulged himself in field sports : "A merry monarch, scandalous and poor P For he was only scantily supplied with money, which chiefly came from France, but if he had possessed the purse of Fortunatus it could barely have sufficed to meet demands from those who lived upon him. A year before, the Lady Byron had been spoken of as being his seventeenth Mistress abroad, and there was no deficiency of candidates for any vacant place within his heart. Sooth to say, the place was never vacant, for it yielded at all times unlimited accommodation to every beauty. Music and dances absorbed much of his attention. So long as the faces around him showed signs of happiness, he did not seriously afflict himself because he was in exile, and a little out at elbows. Such was the "Banished Duke" in his Belgian Court; poor substitute for the Forest of Ardennes, not far distant. By all accounts, he felt " the penalty of Adam, the season's difference," and in no way relished the discomfort. He did not smile and say, " This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am." For, in truth, he much preferred avoiding such coun- INTRODUCTION. XXL sel, and relished flattery too well to part with it on cheap terms. He never considered the ** rural life more sweet than that of painted pomp," and, if all tales of Cromwell's machinations be held true, Charles by no means found the home of exile "more free from peril than the envious court." On the other hand, his own proclamation, dated 3rd May, 1654, offering an annuity of five hundred pounds, a Colonelcy and Knighthood, to any person who should destroy the Usurper ("a certain mechanic fellow, by name Oliver Cromwell !"), took from him all moral right of complaint against reprisals : unless, as we half-believe, this proclamation were one of the many forgeries. As to any sweetness in "the uses of Adversity," Charles might have pleaded, with a laugh, that he had known sufficient of them already to be cloyed with it. The men around him were of similar opinion. A few, indeed, like Cowley and Crashaw, were loyal hearts, whose devotion was best shown in times of difficulty. Not many proved of such sound metal, but there lived some " faithful found among the faith- less"; and " He that can endure To follow with allegiance a fallen lord. Does conquer him that did his master conquer^ And earns a place in the story." XXll. INTRODUCTION. The Ladies of the party scarcely cared for anything beyond self-adornment, rivalry, languid day-dreams of future greatness, and the encouragement of gallantry. There was not one among them who for a moment can bear comparison with the Protector's daughter, Elizabeth Claypole — perhaps the loveliest female character of all recorded in those years. Everything concerning her speaks in praise. She was the good angel of the house. Her father loved her, with some- thing approaching reverence, and feared to forfeit her conscientious approval more than the support of his companions in arms. In worship she shrank from the profane familiarity of the Sectaries, and devotedly held by the Church of England. She is recorded to have always used her powerful influence in behalf of the defeated Cavaliers, to obtain mercy and for- bearance. Her name was whispered, with blessing implored upon it, in the prayers of many whom she alone had saved from death.* No personal ambition, no foolish pride and ostentation marked her short career. The searching glare of Court publicity could betray no flaw in" her conduct or disposition; for the * Elizabeth Cromwell. — A contemporary writes, " How many of the Royalist prisoners got she not freed ? How many did she not save from death whom the Laws had condemned ? How many persecuted Christians hath she not snatched out of the hands of the tormentors ; quite contrary unto that [daughter of] Herodias who could do anything with her [step] father? She INTRODUCTION. • XXIII. heart was sound within, her religion was devoid of all hypocrisy. Her Christian purity was too clearly stain- less for detraction to dare raise one murmur. She is said to have warmly pleaded in behalf of Doctor Hewit, who died upon the scaffold with his Royalist companion, Sir Harry Slingsby, the 8th of June, 1658 (although she rejoiced in the defeat of their plot, as her extant letter proves). Cromwell resisted her solicitations, urged to obduracy by his more ruthless Ironsides, who called for terror to be stricken into the minds of all reactionists by wholesale slaughter of conspirators. Soon after this she faded. It was currently reported and believed that on her death-bed, amid the agonies and fever-fits, she bemoaned the blood that had been shed, and spoke reproaches to imployed her Prayers even with Tears to spare such men whose ill fortune had designed them to suflPer," &c. (S. Carrington's History of the Life and Death of His most Serene Highness OLIFER, Late Lord Protector. 1659. p. 264.) Elizabeth Cromwell, here contrasted with Salome, more re- sembled the Celia of As you Like It, in that she, through prizing truth and justice, showed loving care of those whom her father treated as enemies. By the way, our initial-letter W. on opening page 1 1 (repre- senting Salome receiving from the STrcxovXarwp, sent by Herod, the head of S. John the Baptist) — is copied from the Address to the Reader prefixed to Part II. of Merry Drollery , 1661. Fide postea, p. 232. Our initial letters in M.D., C, pp. 3, 5, are in fac simile of the original. XXIV. INTRODUCTION. the father whom she loved, so that his conscience smote him, and the remembrance stayed with him for ever.* She was only twenty-nine when at Hampton Court she died, on the 6th of August, 1658. Less than a month afterwards stout Oliver's heart broke. Something had gone from him, which no amount of power and authority could counter-balance. He was not a man to breathe his deeper sorrows into the ear of those political adventurers or sanctified enthusiasts whose glib tongues could rattle off the words of con- * Cromwell " seemed much afflicted at the death of his Friend the Earl of Warwick; with whom he had a fast friendship, though neither their humours, nor their natures, were like. And the Heir of that House, who had married his youngest Daughter [Frances], died about the same time [or, rather, two months earlier] ; so that all his relation to, or confidence in that Family was at an end ; the other branches of it abhorring his Alliance. His domestick delights were lessened every day ; he plainly discovered that his son [in-law, who had married Mary Cromwell,] Falconbridge's heart was set upon an Interest destructive to his, and grew to hate him perfectly. But that which chiefly broke his Peace was the death of his daughter [^Elizaheth] C I ay pole ; who had been always his greatest joy, and who, in her sickness, which was of a nature the Physicians knew not how to deal with, had several Conferences with him, which exceedingly perplexed him. Though no body was near enough to hear the particulars, yet her often mentioning, in the pains she endured, the blood her Father had spilt, made people conclude, that she had presented his worst Actions to his consideration. And though he never made the least show of remorse for any of those Actions, it is very certain, that either what she saidf or her death, affected him wonderfully." (Clarendon's Hist, of the Rebellion, Book xv., p. 647, edit. 1720.) INTRODUCTION. XXV* solation. While she was slowly dying he had still tried to grapple with his serious duties, as though undisturbed. Her prayers and her remonstrances had been powerless of late to make him swerve. But now, when she was gone, the hollow mockery of what power remained stood revealed to him plainly ; and the Rest that was so near is not unlikely to have been the boon he most desired. It came to him upon his fatal day, his anniversary of still recurring success and happy fortune ; came, as is well known, on September 3rd, 1658. The Destinies had nothing better left to give him, so they brought him death. What could be more welcome? Very few of these who reach the summit of ambition, as of those other who most lamentably failed, and became bankrupt of every hope, can feel much sadness when the messenger is seen who comes to lead them hence, — from a world wherein the jugglers' tricks have all grown wearisome, and where the tawdry pomp or glare cannot disguise the sadness of Life's masquerade. " Naught's had — all's spent. When our desire is got without content : 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy. Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy." xxvi. introduction. § 3. — Songs of Love and War. It was still 1656, of which we write (the year of Choyce Drollery and Parnassus Biceps, of Wit and Drollery and of Sportive Wit); not 1658: but shadows of the coming end were to be seen. Already it was evident that Cromwell sate not firmly on the throne, uncrowned, indeed, but holding power of sovereignty. His health was no longer what it had been of old. The iron constitution was breaking up. Yet was he only nine months older than the century. In September his new Parliament met ; if it can be called a Parliament in any sense, restricted and co- erced alike from a free choice and from free speech, pledged beforehand to be servile to him, and holding a brief tenure of mock authority under his favour. They might declare his person sacred, and prohibit mention of Charles Stuart, whose regal title they denounced. But few cared what was said or done by such a knot of praters. More important was the renewed quarrel with Spain ; and all parties rejoiced when gallant Blake and Montague fell in with eight Spanish ships off Cadiz, captured two of them and stranded others. There had been no love for that rival fleet since the Invincible Armada made its boast in 1588 ; but what had happened in " Bloody Mary's" reign, after her union with Philip, and the later cruel- ties wrought under Alva against the patriots of the INTRODUCTION. XXVII. Netherlands, increased the national hatred. We see one trace of this renewed desire for naval warfare in the appearance of the Armada Ballad, "In eighty- eight ere I was born," on page 38 of our Choyce Drollery : the earliest copy of it we have met in print. Some supposed connection of Spanish priestcraft with the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 (Guido Faux and several of the Jesuits being so accredited from the Low Country wars), may have caused the early poem on this subject to be placed immediately following. But the chief interest of the book, for its admirers, lay not in temporary allusions to the current politics and gossip. Furnishing these were numerous pam- phlets, more or less venomous, circulating stealthily, despite all watchfulness and penalties. Next year, 1657, "Killing no Murder" would come down, as if showered from the skies; but although hundreds wished that somebody else might act on the sug- gestions, already urged before this seditious tract appeared, not one volunteer felt called upon to im- molate himself to certain death on the instant by standing forward as the required assassin. Cautious thinkers held it better to bide their time, and await the natural progress of events, allowing all the enemies of Charles and Monarchy to quarrel and consume each other. Probably the bulk of country farmers and their labourers cared not one jot how things fell XXVllL INTRODUCTION. out, SO long as they were left without exorbitant oppression ; always excepting those who dwelt where recently the hoof of war-horse trod, and whose fields and villages bore still the trace of havoc. Otherwise, the interference with the Maypole dance, and such innocent rural sports, by the grim enemies to social revelry, was felt to be a heavier sorrow than the slaughter of their King.* So long as wares were sold, and profits gained, Town-traders held few sentiments of favour towards either camp. It was (owing to the parsimony of Parliament, and his continual need of supplies to be obtained without their sanction,) the frequency of his exactions, the ship-money, the forced loans, and the uncertainty of ever gaining a repay- ment, which had turned many hearts against King Charles I., in his long years of difficulty, before shouts arose of " Privilege." But for the cost of wasteful revels at Court, with gifts to favourites, the expense of foreign or domestic wars, there would have been no popular complaint against tyranny. Citizens care little about questions of Divine Right and Supremacy, pro or con^ so long as they are left * John Cleveland wrote a satirical address to Mr. Hammond, the Puritan preacher of Beudley, who had exerted himself** for the Pulling down of the Maypole." It begins, in mock praise, **The mighty zeal which thou hast put on," &c. ; and is printed in Parnassus Biceps^ 1656, p. 18 ; and among ** J". Cleveland Revived: PoemSf^^ 1662, p. 96. INTRODUCTION. XXIX. unfettered from growing rich, and are not called on to disgorge the wealth they swallowed ravenously, perhaps also dishonestly. Some remembrance of this fact possessed the Cavaliers, even before George Monk came to burst the city gates and chains. The Restoration confirmed the same opinion, and the later comedies spoke manifold contempt against time- serving traders ; who cheated gallant men of money and land, but in requital were treated like Acteon. Although, in 1656, disquiet was general, amid contemporary records we may seek far before we meet a franker and more manly statement of the honest Englishman's opinion, despising every phase of trickery in word, deed, or visage, than the poem found in Choyce Drollery^ p. 85, — ^^ The Doctor's Touchstone." There were, doubtless, many whose creed it stated rightly. A nation that could feel thus, would not long delay to pluck the mask from sancti- monious hypocrites, and drag " The Gang " from out their saddle. Here, too, are the love-songs of a race of Poets who had known the glories of Whitehall before its desecration. Here are the courtly praises of such beauties as the Lady Elizabeth Dormer, ist Countess of Carnarvon, who, while she held her infant in her arms, in 1642, was no less fascinating than she had been in her virgin bloom. The airy trifling, dallying XXX. INTRODUCTION. with conceits in verse, that spoke of a refinement and graceful idlesse more than passionate warmth, gave us these reHcs of such men as Thomas Carew, who died in 1638, before the Court dissolved into a Camp. Some of them recal the strains of dramatists, whose only actresses had been Ladies of high birth, con- descending to adorn the Masques in palaces, winning applause from royal hands and voices. These, more- over, were " Songs and Sonnets " which the best mu- sicians had laboured skilfully to clothe anew with melody : Poems already breathing their o\mi music, as they do still, when lutes and virginals are broken, and the composer's score has long been turned into gun-wadding. What sweetness and true pathos are found among them, readers can study once more. The opening poem, by Davenant, is especially beautiful, where a Lover comforts himself with a thought of dying in his Lady's presence, and being mourned thereafter by her, so that she shall deck his grave with tears, and, loving it, must come and join him there : — " Yet we hereafter shall be found By Destiny's right placing. Making, like Flowers, Love under ground. Whose roots are still embracing."* * Here the thought is enveloped amid tender fancies. Compare the more passionate and solemn earnestness of the loyal church- INTRODUCTION. XXXI. Seeing, alongside of these tender pleadings from the worshipper of Beauty, some few pieces where the taint of foulness now awakens our disgust, we might feel wonder at the contrast in the same volume, and the taste of the original collector, were not such feel- ing of wonder long ago exhausted. Queen Elizabeth sate out the performance of Lov^s Labour^s Lost (if tradition is to be believed), and was not shocked at some free expressions in that otherwise delightful play ; — words and inuendoes, let us own, which were a little unsuited to a Virgin Queen. Again, if another tradition be trustworthy, she herself commissioned the comedy of Merry Wives of Windsor to be written and acted, in order that she might see Falstaife in man, Henry King, Bishop of Chichester, in his poem of The Exequy, addressed " To his never-to-be-forgotten Friend," whereiu he says : — " Sleep on, my Love, in thy cold bed, Never to be disquieted I My last good-night I Thou wilt not wake, Till I thy fate shall overtake ; Till age, or grief, or sickness, must Marry my body to that dust It so much loves ; and fill the room My heart keeps empty in thy Tomb. Stay for me there ; I will notfaile To meet thee in that hollow Fale. And think not much of my delay ; I am already on the way, And follow thee with all the speed Desire can make, or sorrows breed,*' &c. XXXll. INTRODUCTION. love: but after that Eastcheap Boar's-Head Tavern scene, with rollicking Doll Tear-sheet, in the Second Part of Henry IV., surely her sedate Majesty might have been prepared to look for something very dif- ferent from the proprieties of " Religious Courtship " or the refinements of Platonic affection in the Knight, who, having " more flesh than other men," pleads this as an excuse for his also having more frailty. Suppose we own at once, that there is a great deal of falsehood and mock-modesty in the talk which ever anon meets us, the Puritanical squeamishness of each extremely moral (undetected) Tartuffe, acting as Aristarchus ; who cannot, one might think, be quite ignorant of what is current in the newspaper-literature of our own time.* The fact is this, people now-a- days keep their dishes of spiced meat and their Bar- mecide show-fasts separate. They sip the limpid spring before company, and keep hidden behind a * For special reasons, the Editor felt it nearly impossible to avoid the omission of a few letters in one of the most objectionable of these pieces, the twelfth in order, of Choyce Drollery. He men- tions this at once, because he holds to his confirmed opinion that in Reprints of scarce and valuable historical memorials no tampering with the original is permissible. (But see Appendix, Part IV. and pp. 230, 288.) He incurs blame from judicious anti- quaries by even this small and acknowledged violation of exacti- tude. Probably, he might have given pleasure to the general public if he had omitted much more, not thirty letters only, but entire poems or songs; as the books deserved in punishment. INTRODUCTION. XXXlll. curtain the forbidden wine of Xeres, quietly iced, for private drinking. Our ancestors took a taste of both together, and without blushing. Their cup of nectar had some '^allaying Tyber " to abate " the thirst com- plaint." They did not label their books " Moral and Theological, for the public Ken," or " Vice, sub rosa, for our locked-cabinet 1" Parlous (Tautres choses. Messieurs, s^il vous plait, § 4. — On the Pastorals. There were good reasons for Court and country being associated ideas, if only in contrast. Thus Touchstone states, when drolling with Colin, as to a Pastoral employment : — " Truly, shepherd in respect of itself it is a good life ; but in respect it is not in the Court, it is tedious." The large proportion of pas- toral songs and poems in Choyce Drollery is one other noticeable characteristic. Even as Utopian schemes, with dreams of an unrealized Republic where laws may be equally administered, and cultivation given to all highest arts or sciences, are found to be most popular in times of discontent and tyranny, when no en- But he leaves others to produce expurgated editions, suitable for unlearned triflers. Any reader can here erase from the Reprint what offends his individual taste (as we know that Ann, Countess of Strafford, cut out the poem of "Woman** from our copy of Dryden*s Miscellany Poems f Pt. 6, 1709). No Editor has any business to thus mutilate every printed copy* XXXIV. INTRODUCTION. couragement for hope appears in what the acting government is doing; even so, amid luxurious times, with artificial tastes predominant, there is always a tendency to dream of pastoral simplicity, and to sing or paint the joys of rural life. In the voluptuous languor of Miladi's own boudoir^ amid scented fumes of pastiles and flowers, hung round with curtains brought from Eastern palaces, Watteau, Greuze, Boucher, and Bachelier were employed to paint delicious panels of bare-feeted shepherdesses, herding their flocks with ribbon-knotted crooks and bursting bodices ; while goatherd-swains, in satin breeches and rosetted pumps, languish at their side, and tell of tender passion through a rustic pipe. The contrast of a wimpling brook, birds twittering on the spray, and daintiest hint of hay-forks or of reaping-hooks, enhanced with piquancy, no doubt, the every-day delights of fashionable wantonness. And as it was in such later times with courtiers of La belle France surrounding Louis XV., so in the reign of either Charles of England — the Revolution Furies crept nearer unperceived. Recurrence to Pastorals in Choyce Drollery is simply in accordance with a natural tendency of baffled Cava- liers, to look back again to all that had distinguished the earlier days of their dead monarch, before Puri- tanism had become rampant Even Milton, in his INTRODUCTION. XXXV. youthful "Lycidas," 1637, showed love for such Idyllic transformation of actual life into a Pastoral Eclogue. (A bitter spring of hatred against the Church was even then allowed to pollute the clear rill of Helicon : in him thereafter that Marah never turned to sweetness.) Some of these Pastorals re- main undiscovered elsewhere. But there can be no mistaking the impression left upon them by the opening years of the seventeenth, if not more truly the close of the sixteenth, century. Dull, plodding critics have sneered at Pastorals, and wielded their sledge-hammers against the Dresden-china Shepherd- esses, as though they struck down Dagon from his pedestal. What then ? Are we forbidden to enjoy, because their taste is not consulted ? " Fools from their folly 'tis hopeless to stay ! Mules will be mules, by the law of their mulishness ; Then be advised, and leave fools to their foolishness. What from an ass can be got but a bray ?" Always will there be some smiling virtuosi, here or elsewhere, who can prize the unreal toys, and thank us for retrieving from dusty oblivion a few more of these early Pastorals. When too discordantly the factions jar around us, and denounce every one of moderate opinions or quiet habits, because he is un- willing to become enslaved as a partisan, and fight under the banner that he deems disgraced by false- XXXVl. INTRODUCTION. hood and intolerance, despite its ostentatious blazon of "Liberation" or "Equality," it is not easy, even for such as " the melancholy Cowley," to escape into his solitude without a slanderous mockery from those who hunger for division of the spoil. Recluse phi- losophers of science or of literature, men like Sir Thomas Browne, pursue their labour unremittingly, and keep apart from politics ; but even for this ab- stinence harsh measure is dealt to them by contem- poraries and posterity whom they labour to enrich. It is well, no doubt, that we should be convinced as to which side the truth is on, and fight for that unto the death. Woe to the recreant who shrinks from hazarding everything in life, and life itself, de- fending what he holds to be the Right. Yet there are times when, as in 1656, the fight has gone against our cause, and no further gain seems promised by waging single-handedly a warfare against the tri- umphant multitude. Patience, my child, and wait the inevitable turn of the already quivering balance ! — such is Wisdom^s counsel. Butler knew the truth of Cavalier loyalty : — " For though out-numbered, overthrown. And by the fate of war run down. Their Duty never was defeated. Nor from their oaths and faith retreated : For Loyalty is still the same Whether it lose or win the game ; INTRODUCTION. XXXVU. True as the dial to the sun. Although it be not shone upon." Some partizans may find a paltry pleasure in dealing stealthy stabs, or buffoons* sarcasms, against the foes they could not fairly conquer. Some hold a silent dignified reserve, and give no sign of what they hope or fear. But for another, and large class, there will be solace in the dreams of earlier days, such as the Poets loved to sing about a Golden Pastoral Age. Those who best learnt to tell its beauty were men unto whom Fortune seldom offered gifts, as though it were she envied them for having better treasure in their birthright of imagination. The dull, harsh, and uncongenial time intensified their visions : even as Hogarth's " Distressed Poet " — amid the squalour of his garret, with his gentle uncomplaining wife dunned for a milk-score — revels in description of Potosi's mines, and, while he writes in poverty, can feign him- self possessor of uncounted riches. Such power of self-forgetfulness was grasped by the "Time-Poets," of whom our little book keeps memorable record. So be it. Cavaliers of 1656. Though Oliver's troopers and a hated Parliament are still in the ascendant, let your thoughts find repose awhile, your hopes regain bright colouring, remembering the plaints of one despairing shepherd, from whom his Chloris fled ; or of that other, " sober and demure," XXXVlll. INTRODUCTION. whose mistress had herself to blame, through freedoms being borne too far. We, also, love to seek a refuge from the exorbitant demands of myriad-handed in- terference with Church and State ; so we come back to you, as you sit awhile in peace under the aged trees, remote from revellers and spies, " Farre in the Forest of Arden" — O take us thither! — reading of happy lovers in the pages of Choyce Drollery, Since their latest words are of our favourite Fletcher, let our invocation also be from him, in his own melodious verse : — " How sweet these solitary places are ! how wantonly The wind blows through the leaves, and courts and plays with 'em ! Will you sit down, and sleep ? The heat invites you. Hark, how yon purling stream dances and murmurs ; The birds sing softly too. Pray take your rest. Sir." J. W. E. September 2nd, 1875. Choyce Drollery : Songs & Sonnets. Choyce DROLLERY: SONGS & SONNETS. BEING A Collection of divers excel- lent pieces of Poetry, OF Severall eminent Authors. Never before printed. LONDON, Printed by y. G, for Robert Pollard, at the Ben, yohnsof^s head behind the Ex- change, and yohn Sweeting, at the Angel in Popes-Head Alley. 1656. To the READER. Courteous Reader, \Hy grateful reception of our first Collection hath induced us to a second essay of the same nature; which, as we are confident, it is not inferioure to the former in worth, so we assure our selves, upon thy already experimented Candor, that it shall at least e- quall it in its fortunate accepta- tion. We serve up these Deli- A 2 cates [To the Reader : 1656.] cates by frugall Messes, as ai- ming at thy Satisfaction, not Saciety. But our designe being more upon thy judgement, than patience, more to delight thee, than to detain thee in theportall of a tedious, and seldome-read Epistle ; we draw this displea- sing Curtain, that intercepts thy (by this time) gravid, and al- most teeming fancy, and sub- scribe, R.P. Choice DROLLERY: SONGS AJSID Sonnets, The broken Heart, ^jlMAt f^yyt^^- a^" DEare Love let me this evening dye, Oh smile not to prevent it, But use this opportunity, Or we shall both repent it : Frown quickly then, and break my heart. That so my way of dying May, though my life were full of smart, Be worth the worlds envying. B Some Choice Drollery y Some striving knowledge to refine, Consume themselves with thinking, And some who friendship seale in wine Are kindly kilFd with drinking : And some are rackt on th' Indian coast, Thither by gain invited, Some are in smoke of battailes lost. Whom Drummes not Lutes delighted. Alas how poorely these depart, Their graves still unattended, Who dies not of a broken heart. Is not in death commended. His memory is ever sweet. All praise and pity moving, Who kindly at his Mistresse feet Doth dye with over-loving. 4. And now thou frown'st, and now I dye, My corps by Lovers followed. Which streight shall by dead lovers lye. For that ground's onely hollow'd : [hallow'd] If Priest take't ill I have a grave. My death not well approving, The Poets my estate shall have To teach them th' art of loving. And So7igs and So7inets, 3 5- And now let Lovers ring their bells, For thy poore youth departed ; ^ Which every Lover els excels, That is not broken hearted. My grave with flowers let virgins strow, For if thy teares fall neare them, They'l so excell in scent and shew. Thy selfe wilt shortly weare them. 6. Such Flowers how much will Flora prise, That's on a Lover growing, And watred with his Mistris eyes, With pity overflowing ? A grave so deckt, well, though thou art [? will] Yet fearfuU to come nigh me. Provoke thee straight to break thy heart. And lie down boldly by me. Then every where shall all bells ring. Whilst all to blacknesse turning. All torches burn, and all quires sing. As Nature's self were mourning. Yet we hereafter shall be found By Destiny's right placing. Making like Flowers, Love under ground. Whose Roots are still embracing. B 2 Of 4 Choice Drollery^ Of a Woman that died for love of a Man. NOr Love nor Fate dare I accuse, Because my Love did me refuse : But oh ! mine own unworthinesse, That durst presume so mickle blisse ; Too mickle 'twere for me to love A thing so like the God above, An Angels face, a Saint-like voice, Were too divine for humane choyce. Oh had I wisely given my heart, U \ For to have lov'd him, but in part, Save onely to have lov'd his face For any one peculiar grace, A foot, or leg, or lip, or eye, I might have liv'd, where now I dye. But I that striv'd all these to chuse, Am now condemned all to lose. You rurall Gods that guard the plams, And chast'neth unjust disdains ; Oh do not censure him him for this, It was my error, and not his. This onely boon of thee I crave. To fix these lines upon my grave. With Icarus I soare[d] too high, For which (alas) I fall and dye. On Songs and Sonnets, On the TIME-POETS. ONe night the great Apollo pleas'd with Ben, Made the odde number of the Muses ten \ The fluent Fletcher^ Beaumont rich in sense, In Complement and Courtships quintessence ; Ingenious Shakespeare^ Massinger that knowes The strength of Plot to write in verse and prose : Whose easie Pegassus will amble ore Some threescore miles of Fancy in an houre ; Cloud-grapling Chapman^ whose Aerial minde Soares at Philosophy, and strikes it blinde ; Danhourn [Dadourn] I had forgot, and let it be, He dy'd Amphibion by the Ministry ; Silvester, Bartas, whose translatique part Twinned, or was elder to our Laureat : Divine composing Quarks, whose lines aspire The April of all Poesy in May, [r/io. Ma?/.] Who B3 6 Choice Drollery, Who makes our English speak Pharsalia; Sands metamorphosed so into another \Sandys\ We know not Sands and Ovid from each other ; He that so well on Scotus play'd the Man, The famous Diggs, or Leonard Claudian; The pithy Daniel, whose salt lines afford A weighty sentence in each little word ; Heroick Draifon, Withers, smart in Rime, The very Poet-Beadles of the Time : Panns pastoral Brown, whose infant Muse did squeak At eighteen yeares, better than others speak : Shirley the morning-child, the Muses bred. And sent him born with bayes upon his head : Deep in a dump John Ford alone was got With folded armes and melancholly hat ; The squibbing Middleton, and Haywood sage, Th' Apologetick Atlas of the Stage ; Well of the Golden age he could intreat. But little of the Mettal he could get ; Three-score sweet Babes he fashion'd from the lump. For he was Christ'ned in Parnassus pump ; The Muses Gossip to AurorcHs bed. And ever since that time his face was red. Thus through the horrour of infemall deeps, With equal pace each of them softly creeps, And being dark they had A lectors torch, [Alectohl And that made Churchyard follow from his Porch, Poor, ragged, torn, & tackt, alack, alack You'd think his clothes were pinn'd upon his back. Songs and Sonnets, 7 The whole frame hung with pins, to mend which clothes, In mirth they sent him to old Father Prose ; Of these sad Poets this way ran the stream, And Decker followed after in a dream ; Rounce^ Robbie^ Hobble^ he that writ so high big [;] Basse for a Ballad, yohn Shank for a Jig : \}Vm, Basse^l Sent by Ben J^onson, as some Authors say, Broom went before and kindly swept the way : Old Chaucer welcomes them unto the Green, And Spencer brings them to the fairy Queen ; The finger they present, and she in grace Transformed it to a May-pole, 'bout which trace Her skipping servants, that do nightly sing. And dance about the same a Fayrie Ring. B 4 The Choice Drollery^ The Vow-breaker, WHen first the Magick of thine eye Usurpt upon my Hberty, '^ Triumphing in my hearts spoyle, thou Didst lock up thine in such a vow : When I prove false, may the bright day Be govern'd by the Moones pale ray, (As I too well remember) this Thou saidst, and seald'st it with a kisse. Oh heavens ! and could so soon that tye Relent in sad apostacy ? Could all thy Oaths and mortgaged trust, Banish like Letters form'd in dust, P vanish] Which the next wind scatters ? take heed. Take heed Revolter ; know this deed Hath wrong'd the world, which will fare worse By thy example, than thy curse. Hide that false brow in mists ; thy shame Ne're see light more, but the dimme flame Of Funerall-lamps \ thus sit and moane. And learn to keep thy guilt at home ; Give it no vent, for if agen Thy love or vowes betray more men. At length I feare thy perjur'd breath Will blow out day, and waken death. TJie Songs and Sonnets, The Sympathie, IF at this time I am derided, And you please to laugh at me, Know I am not unprovided Every way to answer thee, Love, or hate, what ere it be, Never Twinns so nearly met As thou and I in our affection, When thou weepst my eyes are wet, That thou lik'st is my election, I am in the same subjection. In one center we are both, Both our lives the same way tending. Do thou refuse, and I shall loath. As thy eyes, so mine are bending. Either storm or calm portending. I am carelesse if despised, For I can contemn again \ How can I be then surprised, Or with sorrow, or with pain. When I can both love & disdain ? The f lO Choice Drollery^ TJu Red Head and the White, I. COme my White head, let our Muses Vent no spleen against abuses, Nor scoffe at monstrous signes i' th' nose, Signes in the Teeth, or in the Toes, Nor what now delights us most, The sign of signes upon the post. For other matter we are sped. And our signe shall be i' th' head. 2. [White Head's Answer.] Oh ! Will: Rufus^ who would passe, . Unlesse he were a captious Asse ; The Head of all the parts is best, And hath more senses then the rest. This subject then in our defence Will clear our Poem of non-sense. Besides, you know, what ere we read. We use to bring it to a head. Why Songs and Sonnets. 1 1 Why there's no other part we can Stile Monarch o're this Isle of man : 'Tis that that weareth Nature's crown, 'Tis this doth smile, 'tis this doth frown, O what a prize arid triumph 'twere, To make this King our Subject here : Believ't, tis true what we have sed, In this we hit the naile o' th' head. 2. [W. H.'s Answer.] Your nails upon my head Sir, Why ? How do you thus to villifie The King of Parts, 'mongst all the rest. Or if no king, methinks at least. To mine you should give no offence. That weares the badge of Innocence ; Those blowes would far more justly light On thy red scull, for mine is white. I. Come on yfaith, that was well sed, A pretty boy, hold up thy head. Or hang it down, and blush apace. And make it like mines native grace. There's ne're a Bung-hole in the town But in the working puts thine down, A byle that's drawing to a head Looks white like thine, but mine is red. Poore lo [12] Choice Drollery, 2. [W. H.'s Answer.] Poore foole, 'twas shame did first invent The colour of thy Ornament, And therefore thou art much too blame To boast of that which is thy shame ; The Roman Prince that Poppeys topt, Did shew such Red heads should be cropt : And still the Turks for poyson smite Such Ruddy skulls, but mine is white. I. The Indians paint their Devils so. And 'tis a hated mark we know. For never any aim aright That do not strive to hit the white : The Eagle threw her shell-fish down, To crack in pieces such a crown : Alas, a stinking onions head Is white like thine, but mine is red. 2. [White's] Red like to a blood-shot eye, Provoking all that see 't to cry : For shame nere vaunt thy colours thus Since 'tis an eye-sore unto us ; Those locks I'd swear, did I not know't, Were threds of some red petticoat ; No Bedlams oaker'd armes afright So much as thine, but mine is white. Now Songs and Sonnets, 1 3 Now if thou'lt blaze thy armes He shew't, My head doth love no petticoat, My face on one side is as faire As on the other is my haire, So that I bear by Herauld's rules, Party per pale Argent and Gules. Then laugh not 'cause my hair is red, He swear that mine's a noble head. I. [2. White Head's Reply.] The Scutcheon of my field doth beare One onely field, and that is rare. For then methinks that thine should yeild, Since mine long since hath won the field ; Besides, all the notes that be. White is the note of Chastity, , So that without all feare or dread. He swear that mine's a maidenhead. I. There's no Camelion red like me, Nor white, perhaps, thou'lt say, like thee \ Why then that mine is farre above Thy haire, by statute I can prove ; What ever there doth seem divine Is added to a Rubrick line, Which whosoever hath but read. Will grant that mine's a lawful head. Yet 14 Choice Drollery, 2. [White Head;] Yet adde what thou maist, which by yeares. Crosses, troubles, cares and feares, ; For that kind nature gave to me In youth a white head, as you see, At which, though age it selfe repine, It ne^re shall change a haire of mine ; And all shall say when I am am dead, I onely had a constant head. I. Yes faith, in that He condescend, That our dissention here may end, Though heads be alwaies by the eares, Yet ours shall be more noble peeres : For I avouch since I began. Under a colour all was done. Then let us mix the White and Red, And both shall make a beauteous head. I. We mind our heads man all this time[,] And beat them both about this rime ; And I confesse what gave offence Was but a haires difference. And that went too as I dare sweare In both of us against the haire ; Then joyntly now for what is said Lets crave a pardon from our head. Son- Songs a7td Softnefs. 15 SONNET. SHall I think because some clouds The beauty of my Mistris shrouds, To look after another Star ? Those to Cynthia servants are; May the stars when I doe sue, In their anger shoot me through ; Shall I shrink at stormes of rain, Or be driven back again, Or ignoble like a worm, Be a slave unto a storm ? Pity he should ever tast The Spring that feareth Winters blast ; Fortune and Malice then combine, Spight of either I am thine ; And to be sure keep thou my heart, And let them wound my worser part. Which could they kill, yet should I bee Alive again, when pleaseth thee. On 1 6 Choice Drollery^ On the Flower-de-luce in Oxford. A Stranger coming to the town, Went to the Flower-de-luce, A place that seem'd in outward shew For honest men to use ; And finding all things common there, That tended to delight, By chance upon the French disease It was his hap to light. And lest that other men should fare As he had done before, As he went forth he wrote this down Upon the utmost doore. All you that hither chance to come, Mark well ere you be in, The Frenchmens arms are signs without Of Frenchmens harms within. [ALDOBRANDINO,] Jack Songs and Sonnets. 17 ALDOBRANDINO, a fat Cardinal, NEver was humane soule so overgrown, With an unreasonable Cargazon Of flesh, as Aldobrandme, whom to pack, No girdle serv'd lesse than the zodiack : So thick a Giant, that he now was come To be accounted an eighth hill in Rome, And as the leam'd Tostatus kept his age, Writing for every day he liv^d a page ; So he no lesse voluminous then that Added each day a leaf, but 'twas of fat. The choicest beauty that had been devis'd By Nature, was by her parents sacrificed Up to this Monster, upon whom to try, If as increase, he could, too, multiply. Oh how I tremble lest the tender maid Should dye like a young infant over-laid ! For when this Chaos would pretend to move And arch his back for the strong act of Love, Hje^fals as soon orethrown with his own weight, And with his mines doth the Princesse fright. She lovely Martyr) there lyes stew'd and prest. Like flesh under the tarr'd saddle drest, And seemes to those that look on them in bed, Larded with him, rather than married. c Oft 1 8 Choice Drollery, Oft did he cry, but still in vain [J to force His fatnesse [,] powerfuller then a divorce : No herbs, no midwives profit here, nor can Of his great belly free the teeming man. What though he drink the vinegars most fine, They do not wast his fleshy Apennine ; His paunch like some huge Istmos runs between The amarous Seas, and lets them not be seen ; Yet a new Dedalus invented how This Bull with his Pasiphae might plow. Have you those artificial torments known. With which long sunken Galeos are thrown Again on Sea, or the dead Galia Was rais'd that once behinde St. Peters lay : By the same rules he this same engine made. With silken cords in nimble puUies laid ; And when his Genius prompteth his slow part To works of Nature, which he helps with Art : First he mtangles in those woven bands, His groveling weight, and ready to commands, The sworn Prinadas of his bed, the Aids Of Loves Camp, necessary Chambermaids ; Each runs to her known tackling, hasts to hoyse. And in just distance of the urging voyce, Exhorts the labour till he smiling rise To the beds roof, and wonders how he flies. Thence as the eager Falcon having spy'd Fowl at the brook, or by the Rivers side, Hangs in the middle Region of the aire. So hovers he, and plains above his faire : Blest Songs and Sonnets, 19 Blest Icarus first melted at those beames, That he might after fall into those streames, And there allaying his delicious flame, In that sweet Ocean propogate his name. Unable longer to delay, he calls To be let down, and in short measure falls Toward his Mistresse, that without her smock Lies naked as Andromeda at the Rock, And through the Skies see her winged Perseus strike Though for his bulk, more that sea-monster like. Mean time the Nurse, who as the most discreet. Stood governing the motions at the feet. And ballanc'd his descent, lest that amisse He fell too fast, or that way more than this ; Steeres the Prow of the pensile Gallease, Right on Loves Harbour the Nymph lets him pass Over the Chains, & 'tween the double Fort Of her incastled knees, which guard the Port. The Burs as she had learnt still diligent, Now girt him backwards, now him forwards bent ; Like those that levelled in tough Cordage, teach The mural Ram, and guide it to the Breach. c 2 Jack $' 20 Choice Drollery y \ i yack of Lenfs Ballat. [On the welcoming of Queen Henrietta Maria, 1625]. I. List you Nobles, and attend, For here's a Ballat newly penned I took it up in Kent^ If any ask who made the same, To him I say the authors name Is honest yack of Lent. 2. But ere I farther passe along, Or let you know more of my Song, I wish the doores were lockt, For if there be so base a Groom, As one informes me in this room, The Fidlers may be knockt. 3- Tis true, he had, I dare protest. No kind of malice in his brest. But Knaves are dangerous things ; And they of late are grown so bold, They dare appeare in cloth of Gold, Even in the roomes of Kings. But Songs and Sonnets, 2 1 4' But hit or misse I will declare The speeches at London and elsewhere, Concerning this design, Amongst the Drunkards it is said, They hope her dowry shall be paid In nought but Clarret wine. 5. The Country Clowns when they repaire Either to Market or to Faire, No sooner get their pots. But straight they swear the time is come That England must be over-run Betwixt the French and Scots. 6. The Puritans that never fayle 'Gainst Kings and Magistrates to rayle, With impudence aver, f\ That verily, and in good sooth, Some Antichrist, or pretty youth, Shall doubtlesse get of her. A holy Sister having hemm'd And blown her nose, will say she dream'd, Or else a Spirit told her, That they and all these holy seed, To Amsterdam must go to breed, Ere they were twelve months older. c 3 And 22 Choice Drollery, 8. And might but Jack Alent advise, Those dreams of theirs should not prove lies, For as he greatly feares, They will be prating night and day, Till verily, by yea, and nay, . They set's together by th' ears. 9- The Romish Catholiques proclaim. That Gundemore, though he be lame, Yet can he do some tricks ; At Parts, he the King shall show A pre-contract made, as I know, Five hundred twenty six. 10. But sure the State of France is wise. And knowes that Spain vents naught but lies, For such is their Religion ; The Jesuits can with ease disgorge From that their damn'd and hellish forge, Foule falshood by the Legion. II. But be it so, we will admit, The State of Spain hath no more wit. Then to invent such tales. Yet as great Alexander drew. And cut the Gorgon Knot in two, So shall the Prince of Wales. The Songs and Sonnets, 23 12. The reverend Bishops whisper too, That now they shall have much adoe With Friers and with Monks, And eke their wives do greatly feare Those bald pate knaves will mak't appeare They are Canonical punks. At Cambridge and at Oxford eke, They of this match like Schollers speak By figures and by tropes, But as for the Supremacy, The Body may King yames^s be. But sure the Head's the Papers. 14. A Puritan stept up and cries, That he the major part denies. And though he Logick scorns. Yet he by revelation knows The Pope no part o' th' head-piece ows Except it be the horns. 15. The learned in Astrologie, That wander up and down the sky, And their discourse with stars, [there] Foresee that some of this brave rout That now goes faire and soundly out, Shall back return with scars. c 4 Profess- 24 Choice Drollery ^ 1 6. Professors of Astronomy, That all the world knows, dare not lie With the Mathematicians, Prognosticate this Somer shall Bring with the pox the Devil and all, To Surgeons and Physitians. 17. The Civil Lawyer laughs in's sleeve, For he doth verily believe That after all these sports. The Cit[i]zens will horn and grow, And their ill-gotten goods will throw About their bawdy Courts. 18. And those that do Apollo court, And with the wanton Muses sport. Believe the time is come, That Gallants will themselves addresse To Masques & Playes, & Wantonnesse, More than to fife and drum. 19. Such as in musique spend their dayes, And study Songs and Roundelayes, Begin to cleare their throats, For by some signes they do presage, That this will prove a fidling age Fit for men of their coats. Songs and Sonnet\s\ 25 20. But leaving Colleges and Schools, To all those Clerks and learned Fools, Lets through the city range, For there are Sconces made of Horn, Foresee things long ere they be born, Which you'l perhaps think strange. 21. The Major and Aldermen being met, [Mayor] And at a Custard closely set Each in their rank and order, The Major a question doth propound. And that unanswered must go round. Till it comes to th' Recorder. 22. For he's the Citys Oracle, And which you'l think a Miracle, He hath their brains in keeping. For when a Cause should be decreed, He cries the bench are all agreed, When most of them are sleeping. 23. A Sheriff at lower end o' th' board Cries Masters all hear me a word, A bolt He onely shoot, We shall have Executions store Against some gallants now gone o're. Wherefore good brethren look to't. The 26 Choice Drollery , 24. The rascall Sergeants fleering stand, Wishing their Charter reacht the Strand, That they might there intrude ; But since they are not yet content, I wish that it to Tyburn went. So they might there conclude. 25- An Alderman both grave and wise Cries brethren all let me advise, Whilst wit is to be had, That like good husbands we provide Some speeches for the Lady bride. Before all men go mad. 26. For by my faith if we may guesse Of greater mischiefs by the lesse, I pray let this suffice. If we but on men's backs do look. And look into each tradesmans book You'l swear few men are wise. 27. Some thred-bare Poet we will presse, And for that day we will him dresse. At least in beaten Sattin, And he shall tell her from this bench, That though we understand no French, At Pauls she may hear Lattin. But Songs and Sonnets. 27 28. But on this point they all demurre, And each takes counsell of his furre That smells of Fox and Cony, At last a Mayor in high disdain, Swears he much scorns that in his reign Wit should be bought for mony. 29. For by this Sack I mean to drink, I would not have my Soveraign think for twenty thousand Crownes, That I his Lord Lieutenant here, And you my brethren should appear Such errant witlesse Clownes. 30- No, no, I have it in my head, Devises that shall strike it dead. And make proud Farts say That little London hath a Mayor Can entertain their Lady faire. As well as ere did they. 31- S. Georges Church shall be the place Where first I mean to meet her grace, And there St George shall be Mounted upon a dapple gray, And gaping wide shall seem to say, Welcome St. Dennis to me, From 28 Choice Drollery^ 32. From thence in order two by two As we to Pauls are us'd to goe, To th' Bridge we will convey her, And there upon the top o' th' gate, Where now stands many a RascaPs pate, I mean to place a player. 33. And to the Princess he shall cry, May't please your Grace, cast up your eye And see these heads of Traytors ; Thus will the city serve all those That to your Highnesse shall prove foes. For they to Knaves are haters. 34. Down Fishstreet hill a Whale shall shoot. And meet her at the Bridges foot. And forth of his mouth so wide a Shall jFonas peep, and say, for fish. As good as your sweet-heart can wish, You shall have hence each Friday. 35. At Grace-church comer there shall stand A troop of Graces hand in hand. And they to her shall say. Your Grace of France is welcome hither, 'Tis merry when Graces meet together, I pray keep on your way. At Songs and Sonnets, 29 36. At the Exchange shall placed be, In ugly shapes those sisters three That give to each their fate, And Spaine's Infanta shall stand by Wringing their hands, and thus shall cry, I do repent too late. 37. There we a paire of gloves will give, And pray her Highnesse long may live On her white hands to wear them ; And though they have a Spanish scent, The givers have no ill intent, Wherefore she need not feare them. 38. Nor shall the Conduits now run Claret, Perhaps the Frenchman cares not for it, They have at home so much, No, I will make the boy to pisse No worse then purest Hypocris, Her Grace ne're tasted such. 39- About the Standard I think fit Your wives, my brethren, all should sit, And eke our Lady Mayris, Who shall present a cup of gold, And say if we might be bold, We'l drink to all in Paris. In 30 Choice Drollery^ 40. In Pauls Church-yard we breath may take, For they such huge long speeches make, Would tire any horse ; But there I'le put her grace in minde, To cast her Princely head behind And view S. PauVs Crosse. 41. Our Sergeants they shall go their way, And for us at the Devil stay, I mean at Temple-barre, And there of her we leave will take. And say 'twas for King Charls his sake We went with her so farre. 42. But fearing I have tir'd the eares, Both of the Duke and all these Peeres, He be no more uncivill, He leave the Mayor with both the Sheriffs, With Sergeants, hanging at their sleeves, For this time at the Devill. Soitgs and Sonnets, 3 1 A SONG 0(W''? A Story strange I will you tell, But not so strange as true, Of a woman that danc'd upon the ropes. And so did her husband too. With a dildo, dtldo, dildo, With a dildo, dildo, dee, Some say Hwas a man, but it was a woman As plain report may see. She first climb'd up the Ladder For to deceive men's hopes. And with a long thing in her hand She tickled it on the ropes. With a dildo, dildo, dildo, With a dildo, dildo, dee. And to her came Knights and Gentlemen Of low and high degree. She jerk'd them backward and fore ward With a long thing in her hand, And all the people that were in the yard. She made them for to stand. With a dildo, &c. They J2 Choice Drollery, They cast up fleering eyes All under-neath her cloaths, But they could see no thing, For she wore linnen hose. With a dildo, &c. The Cuckold her husband caper'd When his head in the sack was in, But grant that we may never fall When we dance in the sack of sin. With a dildo, &c. And as they ever danc't In faire or rainy weather, I wish they may be hang'd i' th' rope of Love, And so be cut down together. With a dildo, &c. Upon Songs and Sonnets. 33 fflffffffffffffff'^'ffff'ffi Upo7i a Ho^tse of Office over a River, set on fire by a coale of TOBACCO, OH fire, fire, fire, where? The usefiill house o're Water cleare. The most convenient in a shire, Which no body can deny, The house of Office that old true blue * Sir-reverence so many knew [,] You now may see tum'd fine new. [? fire] Which no body, &c. And to our great astonishment Though burnt, yet stands to represent Both mourner and the monument, Which no body^ &c. Ben yohnson^s Vulcan would doe well, Or the merry Blades who knacks did tell. At firing London Bridge befell. Which no body, &c. D They 34 Choice Drollery^ They'l say if I of thee should chant, The matter smells, now out upon't ; But they shall have a fit of fie on't. Which no body^ &c. And why not say a word or two Of she that's just ? witness all who Have ever been at thy Ho go,* *Haut gousu Which no body, &c. Earth, Aire, and Water, she could not Affront, till choUerick fire got Predominant, then thou greVst hot, Which no body, &c. The present cause of all our wo, But from Tobacco ashes, oh ! 'Twas s n luck to perish so, Which no body, Sic Tis fatall to be built on lakes. As Sodom's fall example makes ; But pity to the innocent jakes. Which no body, &c Whose genius if I hit aright. May be conceived Hermophrodite, To both sex common when they sh . . . Which no body, &c. # Of Songs and Sonnets, 35 Of severall uses it hath store, As Midwifes some do it implore, But the issue comes at Postern door : Which no body, &c. Retired mortalls out of feare. Privily, even to a haire. Did often do their business there. Which no body, &c. For mens and womens secrets fit No tale-teller, though privy to it. And yet they went to't without feare or wit, Which no body, &a A Privy Chamber or prisoned roome, And all that ever therein come Uncover must, or bide the doome. Which no body, &c. A Cabinet for richest geare The choicest of the Ladys ware. And pretious stones full many there. Which no body, &c. And where in State sits noble duck, Many esteem that use of nock, The highest pleasure next to oc - Which no body, &c. P 2 And 36 Choice Drollery ^ And yet the hose there down did goe, The yielding smock came up also, But still no Bawdy house I trow, Which no body, &a There nicest maid with naked r . . . , When straining hard had made her mump, Did sit at ease and heare it p. ... , Which no body, &c. Like the Dutch Skipper now may skit. When in his sleeve he did do it, She may skit free, but now plimp niet, Which no body, &c. Those female folk that there did haunt, To make their filled bellies gaunt, And with that same the brook did launt, Which no body, &c. Are driven now to do't on grasse. And make a sallet for their A . . . The world is come to a sweet passe. Which no body, &c. Now farewell friend we held so deare. Although thou help^st away with our cheare, An open house- keeper all the yeare, Which no body, &c. The Songs and Sonnets, 37 The Phoenix in her perfumed flame, Was so consumed, and thou the same, But the Aromaticks were to blame. Which no body, &c. That Phoenix is but one thing twice. Thy Patron nobler then may rise, For who can tell what he'l devise ? Which no body, &c. Diana! s Temple was not free, Nor that world Rome, her Majesty Smelt of the smoke, as well as thee, Which no body, &c. And learned Clerks whom we admire. Do say the world shall so expire. Then when you sh . . remember fire. Which no body, &c. Beware of fire when you scumber. Though to sh . . fire were a wonder. Yet lightning oft succeeds the thunder. Which no body, &c. We must submit to what fate sends, Tis wholsome counsel to our friends. Take heed of smoking at both ends. Which fw body can deny. Upon 1^3 38 Choice Drollery ^ Upon the Spanish Invasion in Eighty eight. I, IN Eighty eighty ere I was born, As I do well remember a, In August was a Fleet prepared The month before September a. 2. Lisbone, Cales and Portugall [Caks, i.e. Cadiz,] Toledo and Grenada; They all did meet, & made a Fleet, And caird it their Armada, 3. There dwelt a little man in Spain That shot well in a gun a ; Don Pedro hight, as black a wight As the Knight of the Sun a. 4- King Philip made him Admirall, And charged him not to stay a. But to destroy both man and boy, And then to come his way a. He Songs and Sonnets, 39 5- He had thirty thousand of his own, But to do us more harm a, He charged him not to fight alone, But to joyn with the Prince of Parma. They say they brought provision much As Biskets, Beans and Bacon, Besides, two ships were laden with whips, But I think they were mistaken, 7. When they had sailed all along, And anchored before Dover, The English men did board them then, And heav'd the Rascalls over. 8. The queen she was at Tilbury, What could you more desire a? For whose sweet sake Sir Francis Drake Did set the ships on fire a. 9- Then let them neither brag nor boast, For if they come again a. Let them take heed they do not speed As they did they know when a. Upon D 4 40 Choice Drollery^ Upon the Gun-powder Plot. I. ANd will this wicked world never prove good ? Will Priests and Catholiques never prove true ? Shall Catesby, Piercy and Rookwood Make all this famous Land to rue ^ With putting us in such a feare, With huffing and snuffing and gum-powder. With a Ohone hononoreera tarrareera, tarrareero (hone, 2. ^Gainst the fifth of November, Tuesday by name, Peircy and Catesby a Plot did frame, Anno one thousand six hundred and five, In which long time no man alive Did ever know, or heare the like. Which to declare my heart growes sike. With a O hone, &c. Under the Parliament-house men say Great store of Powder they did lay. Thirty six barrels, as is reported, With many faggots ill consorted, With barres of iron upon them all. To bring us to a deadly fall. With a O hone, &c. And Songs and Sonnets. 41 4. And then came forth Sir Thomas Knyvet, You filthy Rogue come out o' th' doore, Or else I sweare by Gods trivet He lay thee flatlong on the floore, For putting us all in such a feare, With huffing and snuffing, &c. 5- Then Faux out of the vault was taken And carried before Sir Francis Bacon, And was examined of the Act, And strongly did confesse the Fact, And swore he would put us in such a feare. With huffing, &c. 6. Now see it is a miraculous thing. To see how God hath preserved our King, The Queen, the Prince, and his Sister dear, And all the Lords, and every Peere, And all the Land, and every shire. From huffing, &c. 7- Now God preserve the Council wise. That first found out this enterprise ; Not they, but my Lord Monteagle, His Lady and her little Beagle, His Ape, his Ass, and his great Beare, From huffing, and snuffing, and gunni-ponuder. Other 42 Choice Drollery^ [8.] Other newes I heard moreover, If all was true that's told to me, Three Spanish ships landed at Dover, Where they made great melody. But the Hollanders drove them here and there, With huffing, &c. A CATCH. DRink boyes, drink boyes, drink and doe not spare, Troule away the bowl, and take no care. So that we have meat and drink, and money and clothes What care we, what care we how the world goes. A Songs and Sonnets, 43 A pitiful Lamentation. \^ MY Mother hath sold away her Cock And all her brood of Chickins, And hath bought her a new canvasse smock And righted up the Kitchin. And has brought me a Lockeram bond With a vlopping paire of breeches, Thinking that yone would have lov'd me alone, But she hath serv'd me such yfiches. Ise take a rope and drowne my selfe. Ere 1st indure these losses : Ise take a hatchet and hang my selfe Ere 1st indure these crosses. Or else He go to some beacon high, Made of some good dry'd furzon [,] And there He seeme in love to fry Sing hoodie a doodle Cuddon. 44 Choice Drollery y -yA^ ^ A Woman with Child that de- \ sired a Son, which might .. / prove a Preacher, \^ 'J' A Maiden of the pure Society ^ Pray'd with a passing piety That since a learned man had o're-reacht her, The child she went withall should prove [a] Preacher. The time being come, and all the dangers past, The Goodwife askt the Midwife What God had sent at last. Who answered her half in a laughter, Quoth she the Son is proved a Daughter. But be content, if God doth blesse the Baby, She has a Pulpit where a Preacher may be. The Songs and Sonnets, 45 The Maid of Tottenham. I. AS I went to Totnam Upon a Market-day, There met 1 with a faire maid Cloathed all in gray, Her journey was to London With Buttermilk and Whay, To fall down, down, derry down, down, down, derry down, derry, derry dina. 2. God speed faire maid, quoth one, You are well over-took ; With that she cast her head aside, And gave to him a look. She was as full of Leachery As letters in a book. To fall down, &c. 3- And as they walk'd together. Even side by side. The young man was aware That her garter was unty'd. For feare that she should lose it, Aha, alack he cr/d. Oh your garter that hangs down ! Down, down, derry down, &c. Quoth 46 Choice Drollery, 4. Quoth she [,] I do intreat you For to take the pain To do so much for me, As to tye it up again. That will I do sweet-heart, quoth he, When I come on yonder plain. With a down, down, derry down, &c. 5- And when they came upon the plain Upon a pleasant green, ^ The fair maid spread her 1.. . s abroad. The young man fell between, Such tying of a Garter I think was never seen. To fall down, &c. 6. When they had done their businesse. And quickly done the deed. He gave her kisses plenty, Aed took her up with speed. But what they did I know not, But they were both agreed To fall down together, down Down, down, derry down, Down, down, derry dina. • She Songs and Sonnets, 47 7. She made to him low curtsies And thankt him for his paine, The young man is to High-gate gone [,] The maid to London came To sell off her commodity She thought it for no shame. To fall downe, &c. 8. When she had done her market, And all her money told To think upon the matter It made her heart full cold [:] But that which will away, quoth she, Is very hard to hold. To fall down, &c. 9. This tying of the Garter Cost her her Maidenhead, Quoth she it is no matter. It stood me in small stead. But often times it troubled me As I lay in my bed. To fall down, &c. To 48 Choice Drollery^ To the King on Ne^v-yeares day, 162,8, THis day inlarges every narrow mind, Makes the Poor bounteous, and the Miser kind ; Poets that have not wealth in wisht excesse, I hope may give Hke Priests, which is to blesse. And sure in elder times the Poets were Those Priests that told men how to hope and feare, Though they most sensually did write and live, Yet taught those blessings, which the Gods did give. But you (my King) have purify'd our flame. Made wit our virtue which was once our shame ; For by your own quick fires you made ours last, Reform'd our numbers till our songs grew chast. Farre more thou fam'd Augustus ere could doe With's wisdome, ( though it long continued too ) You have perform'd even in your Moon of age ; Refin'd to Lectures, Playes, to Schooles a stage. Such vertue got [,] why is your Poet lesse A Priest then his who had a power to blesse ? So Songs and Sonnets. 49 So hopefull is my rage that I begin To shew that feare which strives to keep it in : And what was meant a blessing soars so high That it is now become a Prophesie. Your selfe (our ^Plannet which renewes our year) Shall so inlighten all, and every where, That through the Mists of error men shall spy In the dark North the way to Loyalty \ Whilst with your intellectuall beames, you show The knowing what they are that seeme to know. You like our Sacred and indulgent Lord, When the too -stout Apostle drew his sword, When he mistooke some secrets of the cause. And in his furious zeale disdain'd the Lawes, Forgetting true Religion doth lye On prayers, not swords against authority. You like our substitute of horrid fate That are next him we most should imitate, Shall like to him rebuke with wiser breath. Such furious zeale, but not reveng'd with death. Like him the wound that's giv'n you strait shall heal, Then calm by precept such mistaking zeal. In praise of a deformed woman. C^^J I Love thee for thy curled hairef^/^-^tx^f As red as any Fox, Our forefathers did still commend The lovely golden locks. Venus her self might comelier be, Yet hath no such variety. E I so Choice Drollery^ 2. I love thee for thy squinting eyes, It breeds no jealousie, For when thou do'st on others look, Methinks thou look'st on me, Venus her self, &c. 3- I love thee for thy copper nose, Thy fortune's ne're the worse. It shews the mettal in thy face Thou should'st have in thy purse, Venus her self, &c. 4. I love thee for thy Chessenut skin. Thy inside's white to me. That colour should be most approved, That will least changed be. Venus her self &c. 5. I love thee for thy splay mouth, For on that amarous close There's room on either side to kisse. And ne're offend the nose. Venus her self &c. 6. I love thee for thy rotten gummes, In good time it may hap. When other wives are costly fed. He keep thy chaps on pap. Venus her self, &c. Songs and Sonnets, 5 1 7. I love thee for thy blobber lips, 'Tis good thrift I suppose, They're dripping-pans unto thy eyes. And save-alls to thy nose. Venus her self, &c. 8. I love thee for thy huncht back, . 'Tis bow'd although not broken. For I believe the Gods did send Me to Thee for a Token. Venus her self, &c. 9- I love thee for thy pudding wast, If a Taylor thou do'st lack. Thou need'st not send to France for one. He fit thee with a sack. Venus her self, &c. 10. I love thee for thy lusty thighes For tressels thou maist boast. Sweet-heart thou hast a water-mill. And these are the mill-posts. Venus her self, &c. I II.] 10. I love thee for thy splay feet. They're fooles that thee deride. Women are alwaies most esteem'd, When their feet are most wide. Venus her self may comelier be, &c. E 2 On 52 Choice Drollery. 3.. ^ On a TINKER. HE that a Tinker, a Tinker, a Tinker will be, Let him leave other Loves, and come fol- low me. Though he travells all the day, Yet he comes home still at night, And dallies, dallies with his Doxie, And dreames of delight. His pot and his tost in the morning he takes, And all the day long good musick he makes ; He wanders up and down to Wakes & to Fairs, He casts his cap, and casts his cap at the Court and its cares \ And when to the town the Tinker doth come. Oh, how the wanton wenches run, Some bring him basons, and some bring him bowles. All maids desire him to stop up their holes. Prinkum Prankum is a fine dance, strong Ale is good in the winter. And he that thrumms a wench upon a brass pot. The child may prove a Tinker. With tink goes the hammer, the skellit and the scummer. Come bring me thy copper kettle. For the Tinker, the Tinker, the merry merry Tinker Oh, he's the man of mettle. Upon Songs and Sonnets, 5 3 Upon his Mistriss black Eye-browes, / Hide, oh hide those lovely Browes, Cupid takes them for his bowes, And from thence with winged dart He lies pelting at my heart, / Nay, unheard-of wounds doth give, Wounded in the heart I live \ From their colour I descry, Loves bowes are made of Ebony ; Or their Sable seemes to say They mourn for those their glances slay ; Or their blacknesse doth arise From the Sun-beams of your eyes, Where Apollo seemes to sit. As he's God of Day and Wit ; Your piercing Rayes, so bright, and cleare, Shewes his beamy Chariots there. Then the black upon your brow, Sayest wisdomes sable hue, [ ? sagest ] Tells to every obvious eye, There's his other Deity. This too shewes him deeply wise. To dwell there he left the skies ; E 3 So 54 Choice Drollery, So pure a black could Phoebus burn, He himself would Negro turn, And for such a dresse would slight His gorgeous attire of light ; Eclipses he would count a blisse, Were there such a black as this : Were Night's dusky mantle made Of so glorious a shade, The ruffling day she would out-vie In costly dresse, and gallantry : Were HelFs darknesse such a black, For it the Saints would Heaven forsake ; So pure a black, that white from hence Loses its name of innocence ; And the most spotlesse Ivory is A very stain and blot to this : So pure a black, that hence I guesse. Black first became a holy dresse. The Gods foreseeing this, did make Their Priests array themselves in Black. 7o Songs and Sonnets. 55 To my Lady of Carnarvon, 'yanuary i. IDol of our Sex ! Envy of thine own ! Whom not t' have seen, is never to have known, What eyes are good for ; to have seen, not lov'd. Is to be more, or lesse then man, unmov'd ; Deigne to accept, what I i' th' name of all Thy Servants pay to this dayes Festival, Thanks for the old yeare, prayers for the new. So may thy many dayes to come seeme few. So may fresh springs in thy blew rivolets flow. To make thy roses, and thy lillies grow. So may all dressings still become thy face. As if they grew there, or stole thence their grace. So may thy bright eyes comfort with their rayes Th' humble, and dazle those that boldly gaze : So may thy sprightly motion, beauties best part. Shew there is stock enough of life at heart. So may thy warm snow never grow more cold, - So may they live to be, but not seem old. So may thy Lord pay all, yet rest thy debtor, And love no other, till he sees a better : E 4 So 5 6 Choice Drollery^ So may the new year crown the old yeares joy, By giving us a Girle unto our Boy ; I' th' one the Fathers wit, and in the other Let us admire the beauty of the Mother, That so we may their severall pictures see, Which now in one fair Medall joyned be : Till then grow thus together, and howe're You grow old in your selves, grow stil young here ; And let him, though he may resemble either, Seem to be both in one, and singly neither. Let Ladies wagers" lay, whose chin is this. Whose forehead that, whose lip, whose eye, then kiss Away the difference, whilst he smiling lies. To see his own shape dance in both your eyes. Sweet Babe ! my prayer shall end with thee, ( Oh may it prove a Prophecy 1) May all the channels in thy veynes Expresse the severall noble straines, From whence they flow \ sweet Sydney's wit, But not the sad, sweet fate of it ; The last great Pembroke's learning, sage Burleigh^ s both wisdome and his age ; Thy Grandsires honest heart expresse The Veres untainted noblenesse. To these ( if any thing there lacks ) Adde Dormer too, and Molenax, Lastly, if for thee I can woo Gods, and thy Godfathers grace too. Together with thy Fathers Thrift : Be thou thy Mothers New-years gift. The Songs and Sonnets, 57 The Western Husband-man s Complaint in the late Wars, UDs bodykins ! Chill work no more : Dost think chill labour to be poor ? No ich have more a do : If of the world this be the trade, That ich must break zo knaves be made, Ich will a blundering too. [plundering] Chill zel my cart and eke my plow, And get a zword if ich know how. For ich mean to be right : Chill learn to zwear, and drink, and roar, And (Gallant leek) chill keep a whore, [like] No matter who can vight. God bless us ! What a world is here. It can ne're last another year, Vor ich can't be able to zoe : Dost think that ever chad the art. To plow the ground up with my cart, My beasts be all a go. But 58 Choice Drollery, But vurst a Warrant ich will get From Master Captaine, that a vet Chill make a shrewd a do : Vor then chave power in any place, To steal a Horse without disgrace, And beat the owner too. Ich had zix oxen tother day, And them the Roundheads vetcht away, A mischiefe be their speed : And chad zix horses left me whole. And them the Cabbaleroes stole : Chee voor men be agreed. Here ich doe labour, toyl and zweat. And dure the cold, with dry and heat. And what dost think ich get ? Vaith just my labour vor my pains, The garrisons have all the gains, Vor thither all's avet. There goes my come and beanes, and pease, I<^h doe not dare them to displease. They doe zo zwear and vapour : When to the Govemour ich doe come. And pray him to discharge my zum, Chave nothing but a paper. Uds Songs and Sonnets, 59 U'ds nigs dost think that paper will Keep warme my back and belly fill ? No, no, goe vange thy note : If that another year my vield No profit doe unto me yield, Ich may goe cut my throat. When any money chove in store, Then straight a warrant comes therefore. Or ich must blundred be : And when chave shuffled out one pay. Then comes another without delay. Was ever the leek azee ? Dike] If all this be not grief enow. They have a thing cald quarter too, O'ts a vengeance waster : A pox upon^t they call it vree, ["free quarters"] Cham zure they make us zlaves to be. And every rogue our master. The m^^'^' r-A- 60 ^ ' -# ■--'' Choice Drollery y ^ffffWfffffffffff^ffffff'^WI ^ The High-way matHs Song, Keep my Horse, I keep my Whore, take no Rents, yet am not poore. n I traverse all the land about, And yet was born to never a foot ; With Partridge plump, and Woodcock fine, I do at mid-night often dine ; And if my whore be not in case. My Hostess daughter has her place. The maids sit up, and watch their tumes, If I stay long the Tapster mourns ; The Cook-maid has no mind to sin, Though tempted by the Chamberlin ; But when I knock, O how they bustle ; The hostler yawns, the geldings justle ; If maid be sleep, oh how they curse her ! And all this comes of, Deliver your purse sir. Against Songs and Sonnets, 6i Against Fruition, &c. f VM-i;^.^.^-^^ ^- THere is not half so warme a fire -IJ^L In the Fruition, as Desire. U \ When I have got the fruit of pain, f ^^ ^ ^; n Possession makes me poore again, ' '^ Expected formes and shapes unknown, Whet and make sharp tentation ; Sense is too niggardly for Bliss, And payes me dully with what is ; But fancy's liberall, and gives all That can within her vastnesse fall ; Vaile therefore still, while I divine The Treasure of this hidden Mine, And make Imagination tell What wonders doth in Beauty dwell. Upon 62 Choice Drollery, Upon Mr. Fullers Booke, called Pisgah-sight. Fuller of wish, than hope, methinks it is, For me to expect a fuller work than this, Fuller of matter, fuller of rich sense, Fuller of Art[,] fuller of Eloquence ; Yet dare I not be bold, to intitle this The fullest work ; the Author fuller is. Who, though he empty not himself, can fill Another fuller, yet continue still Fuller himself, and so the Reader be Alwayes in hope a fuller work to see. On Songs and Sonnets, 63 On a Sheepherd that died for Love, a . -/