m

Thoo whun the club men wor so thick,
Esput my zive upon a stick,

And about eswent among 'am,
And by my troth csdid suppose
That they were honester than those

That now do zwear they'll hang 'um. Was't not enow to make men vite, When villains come by de and night,

To plunder and undoe 'um, And garrizons did vet all in,

And steep the country to the skin,

And we zet nothing to 'um? But we had zoon a scurvy pluck, The better men the worser luck,

We had knaves and fools among us;
Zome turn'd, zome cowards run away,
And left a vew behind to try,

And bloody rogues to bang us.
But now 'tis a come to a scurvy matter,
Cham in the house of the surgan strater,

That have po grace, nor pitty,
But here they peel, and pole, and squeeze;
And when cha' paid them all their fees,

They turn me to the mittee.
Like furies they zit by three and three,
And all their plots to beggar we,

Like Pilate and the Jews;
And zome do zee that both do know,
Of thick above, and these below,

'Tis not a turd to chose.
But tho' echood redeem my grown,
Es went to London to compown,

And ride through weene and weather, Estraid there eight and twonty weeks, And chwor at last zo much to zeek,

As when es vur'st come thither.
There whun's zeed voke to church repair,
Espi'd about vor common.praoer,

But no zuch thing scould zee,
The zed the common'st that was there,
Was vrom a tub or a wicker chair,

They call'd it stumpere.
Es hurd’um pray, and every word,
As the wor sick, they cry'd O Lord,

And thoo ston still agen,
And vor my life escould not know,
Whun they begun or had ado,

But when they zed amen.
They have a new word, 'tis not preach,
Zdo think zome o'me did call it teach,

A trick of their devizing,
And there zo good a nap sdid vet,
Till 'twas adoo, that's past sun-zet,

As if twor but zun rising.
At night zo zoon's chwar into bed,
Sdid all my prayers without book read,

My creed and pater-poster,
Me think zet all their prayers to thick,
And they do go no more aleek,

Than an apple's like an oyster.
Chad nead to watch zo well as pray,
Whun chave to do with zuch as they,

Or else es may go zeek; They need not bid a monthy vast, Vor if zoo be these times do last,

Twool come to zeav'n a week.

Es waited there a huges time,
And brib'd thick men to know my crime,

That esmed make my pease,
At last esrown my purse was vat,
And if chwould be reform'd of that,

They wood give me a release. Esgid ’um bond vor neevescore pown, Bezides what chad a paid 'um down.

And thoo they made me sweare, Whun chad a reckon'd what my cost are, Es swear'd chood and zit down aloster,

Vor by my troth chawr weary.
Thoo wben scome home esbote some beass
And chowr in hope we should ha' peace,

Case here's no cavaliers;
But now they zed's a new quandary,
Tween pendents and presbytary,

Cham agast they'll go by the ears.
Esbore in hon 'twould never last,
The mittees did get wealth zo vast,

And gentlemen undoo,
Usd wonderkins toold make one mad,
That three or four livings had,

Now can't tell whare to go.
Cha zeed the time when escood gee,
My dater more than zix of thee:

But now by briles and stortions,
Zome at our wedden ha bestow'd
In gloves more than avore this wood

A made three daters' portions.
One om ow'd me three hundred pown,
Es zend vor zome, he paid it down;

But within three days ater;
Ech had a ticket to restore
The same agen, and six times more,

Is’nt this a cozning matter!
Whun chood not do't smot to black-rod,
A place was nere a made by God,

And there chowr vajn to lye,
Till chad a gidd’n up his bon,
And paid a hundred more in hon,

And thoo smed come away.
Nay now they have a good hon made,
What if the Scots should play the jade,

And keep awy our king?
War they not mad in all these dangers,
To go and trust the king with strangers ?

Was ever such a thing?
We ha' nor scrip nor scrole to show,
Whether it be our king or no,

And if they should deny an,
They'll make us vight vor 'n once more,
As well's agaenst'n heretovore,

How can we else come by'n.
They had been better paid ’um down
Their vorty hundred thousand pown,

And zo zet ’um gwine,
Vor cham agast avore thee go,
The'll hav' our grown and mony too,

Cham sore aftard of mine.
Another trick they do devize,
The vive and twonty part and size.

And there at every meeting,
We pay vor wives and childrens pole
More then they'll ever yield us whole,

'Tis abomination cheating.

We can nor eat, nor drink, nor lye
We our own wives by and by;

We pay to knaves that couzen ;
My dame and I ten children made,
But now we do gee of the trade,

Vor fear should be a douzen. Then lets to clubs agen and vight, Or lets take it all out right;

Vor thus they mean to sare, All thick be right, they'll strip and use, And deal with them as bad as Jews,

All custen voke beware.

So this cavalier cur was beaten full sore,

And had many a knock on the pate, (more, But they serv'd him aright if they had beat him

For meddling with matters of state.
Now Heaven look down on our noble protector,

His commanders and members eke,
And keep him from the teeth of every elector,

That is not able to speak.
And hang all such dogs as their honours do hate,

Let them clear themselves if they can, For if they be susfered to be in the state,

They'll conspire against horse and nuan.

ON A BUTCHER'S DOG THAT BIT A COMMANDER'S

MARE THAT STOOD TO BE KNIGHT OF A SHIRE.

THE NEW KNIGHT ERRANT.

a

All you that for parliament members do stand

For county, borough or city,
Listen now to my song, which is doleful for and

A lamentable ditty.
For you must take notice that there was a dog,

Nay a mastiff dog (you see),
And if this great dog were ty'd to a great clog,

It had been full happy for we.
And eke there was a great colonel stout,

That had been in many a slaughter,
But this mastiff to eat him was going about,

As you shall hear hereafter.
You bloody malignants why will you still plot ?

'Twill bring you to banging you know ; For if this dog had done what he did not,

How had he been us'd I trow !
But happy was it for sweet Westminster

When they went to make their choice;
That this plot was found out, for why should this cur

In elections have a voice?
For surely this mastiff, though he was big,

And had been lucky at fighting,
Yet he was not quality'd worth a lig,

And therefore he fell a biting.
But whom do you think? a thing of great note,

And a worthy cominander's inare,
O what a strange battle had there been fought,

Had they gone to fight dog, fight bear.
This dog was a leveller in his heart,

Or some tub-preaching cur;
For honour or greatness he car'd not a fart,

And loy'd neither lord nor sir.
For when the commander was mounted on high,

And got above many a brother,
It angred this dog at the guts verily,

To see one man above another.
And therefore he run at him with open mouth,

But it seeins the dog was but dull;
He had as good took a bear by the toota,

As mistook a horse for a bull.
But this plot was discover'd in very good time,

And strangely, as you may perceive,
For the people saw him committing this crime,

And made him his biting leave.
And so they were parted without any harm,

That now any body seeth;
For it seems this dog that made all this alarm,

Did but only show his teeth.

Of giants and knights, and their wonderful fights,

We have stories enough in romances, (true, But I'll tell you one new, that is strange and yet

Though t'other are nothing but fancies.
A knight lately made of the governing trade,

Whose name he'll not have to be known;
Has been trucking with famc, to purchase a name,

For 'tis said he had none of his own. He by fortune's design, should have been a divine,

And a pillar no doubt of the church ; Whoin a sexton (God wot) in the belfry begot,

And his mother did pig in the porch. And next for his breeding, 'twas learned hogfeeding,

With which he so long did converse, (nature That his manners and feature, was so like their

You'ld scarce know his sweetness from theirs. But observe the device of this nobleman's rise,

How he hurried from trade to trade, [higher From the grains he'd aspire to the yest, and then

Till at length he a drayman was made. Then his dray-horse and he, in the streets we did sce,

With his hanger, his sling, and his jacket; Long time he did watch, to meet with his match,

For he'd ever a mind to the placket.
At length he did find out a trull to his mind,

And Ursula was her name ; [quoth she, “ Oh Ursly,” quoth be, and “Oh Tom," then

And so they began their game. But as soon as they met, O such babes they did get,

And blood-royal in 'em did place, [dam, From a swineherd they came, a she-bear was their

They were suckled as Romulus was. At last when the rout, with their head did fall out,

And the wars thereupon did fall in, He went to the field with a sword, but no shield,

Strong drink was his buckler within. But when he did 'spy, how they dropp'd down and And did hear the bullets to sing;

[die, His arms he flung down, and run fairly to town,

And exchang'd his sword for his slirg. Yet he claim'd bis share, in such honours as were

Belonging to nobler spirits; That ventur'd their lives, while this buffoon survives

To receive the reward of their merits. When the wars were all done, he his fighting begin,

And would needs shew his valour in peace, Then bis fury he things, at poor conquer'd things:

And frets like a hog in his grease.

For his first feat of all, on a wit he did fall, A wit as some say, and some not, Because he'd an art, to rhime on the quart, But never did care for the pot.

[sirs,

And next on the cocks, he fell like an ox,
Took them and their masters together;
But the combs and the spurs, kept himself and his
Who are to have both or neither.
The cause of his spite was because they would fight,
And because he durst not he did take on;
And said they were fit, for the pot, not the spit,
And would serve to be eaten with bacon.

But flesh'd with these spoils, the next of his toils,
Was to fall with wild beasts by the ears,

To the bearward he goeth, and then opened his mouth;

And said, "Oh! are you there with your bears?" Our stories are dull, of a cock and a bull,

But such was his valour and care;
Since he bears the bell, the tales that we tell,
Must be of a cock and a bear.

The crime of the bears was, they were cavaliers,
And had formerly fought for the king;
And pull'd by the burs the roundheaded curs,
That they made their ears to ring.

Our successor of kings, like blind fortune, flings
Upon him both honour and store;

Who has as much right, to make Tom a knight,
As Tom has desert and no more.

But Fortune that whore, still attended this brewer,

And did all his atchievements reward; And blindly did fling, on this lubberly thing, More honour, and made him a lord.

Now he walks with his spurs, and a couple of curs At his heels, which he calls squires;

So when honour is thrown, on the head of a clown, 'Tis by parasites held up, and liars.

The rest of his prauks, will merit new thanks,
With his death, if we did but know it ;
But we'll leave him and it, to a time and place fit,
And Greg. shall be funeral poet.

THE NEW MOUNTEBANK.

Ir any body politic,

Of plenty or ease be very sick,
There's a physician come to town,
Of far fetcht fame and high renown:
Though call'd a mountebank, 'tis meant
Both words being Freuch, a parliament;
From Geneva and Amsterdam,
From Germany and Scotland came;
Now lies in London, but the place
If inen say true, is in his face.
His scaffold stands on Tower-hill,
When he on Strafford try'd his skill:
Off went his head, you'll think him slain,
But straight 'twas voted on again.
Diurnals are his weekly bills,

Which speak how many he cures or kills:
But of the errata he'll advise,

For cure read kill, for truth read lies.

Down with the orthodoxal train,

All loyal subjects slay ;
When these are gone we shall be blest

The clean contrary way.
When Charles we've bankrupt made, like us

Of crown and power bereft him ;
And all his loyal subjects slain,

And none but rebels left him;
When we've beggar'd all the land,

And sent our trunks away,
We'll make him then a glorious prince,

The clean contrary way.
"Tis to preserve his majesty,

That we against him fight, Nor are we ever beaten back,

Because our cause is right.
If any make a scruple on't,

Our declarations say
Who fight for us, fight for the king,

The clean contrary way.
At Keynton, Branford, Plymouth, York,

And divers places more;
What victories we saints obtain's,

The like ne'er seen before.
How often we prince Robert kill'd,

And bravely won the day,
The wicked cavaliers did run

The clean contrary way. The true religion we maintain,

The kingdom's peace and plenty ; The privilege of parliament,

Not known to one of twenty ;
The ancient fundamental laws,

And teach men to obey
Their lawful soveveign, and all these,

The clean contrary way.
We subjects' liberties preserve,

By prisonment and plunder,
And do enrich our selves and state

By keeping the wicked under.
We must preserve mechanics now,

To lecturise and pray;
By them the gospel is advanc'd,

The clean contrary way.
And though the king be much misled

By that malignant crew,
He'll find us honest, and at last

Give all of us our due.
For we do wisely plot, and plot

Rebellion to destroy,
He sees we stand for peace and truth,
: The clean contrary way.
The public faith shall save our souls,

And good out-works together,
And ships shall save our lives tbat stay,

Only for wind and weather.
But when our faith and works fall down,

And all our hopes decay,
Our acts will bear us up to Heaven,

The clean contrary way.

a

And cast away care and sorrow;
He's a fool that takes care for to-morrow.

a

Why should we be droopers,
To save it for troopers.
Let's spend our own,
And when all is gone,

That they can have done,
Then the Roundheads and Caves agree.

Then fall to your drinking,

And leave off this shrinking,
Let Square-heads and Round-heads quarrel,
We have no other foe but the barrel.

These cares and disasters,
Shall ne'er be our masters,
English and Scot,
Doth both love a pot,

Though they say they do not,
Here the Roundheads and Caves agree.

A man that is armed

With liquor is charmed,
And proof against strength and cunning,
He scorns the base humour of running.

Our brains are the quicker,
When season'd with liquor,
Let's drink and sing,
Here's a health to our king,

And I wish in this thing,
Both the Roundheads and Caves agree.

A pox of this fighting ;

I take no delighting,
In killing of men and plunder,
A gun affrights me like a thunder.

If we can live quiet,
With good drink and diet,
We won't come nigh,
Where the bullets do fly:

In fearing to die,
Both the RounJheads and Caves agree.

'Twixt Square-head and Round-head

The land is confounded,
They care not for fight or battle,
But to plunder our goods and cattle.

Whene'er they coine to us,
They come to undo us,
Their chiefest hate,
Is at our estate,

And in sharing of that,
Both the Roundheads and Caves agree.

In swearing and lying,

In cowardly flying,
In whoring, in cheating, and stealing,
They agree; and all damnable dealing.

He's a fool and a widgeon,
That thinks they've religion,
For law and right,
Are o'er-rul’d by might,

But when they should fight,
Then the Roundheads and Cares agree.

Then while we have treasure,

Let's spare for no pleasure,
He's a fool that has wealth and won't spend it,
But keeps it for troopers to end it.

When we've nothing to leave 'em,
Then we shall deceive 'em,
If all would be
Of such humours as we,

We should suddenly see
Both the Roundheads and Caves agree.

WRITTEN IN 1648.

COME let us be merry,

Drink claret and sherry, VOL VI.

Xx

The poor Cavaliers, thought all was their oway
And now was their time to sway,
But friends they have few, and money they've none,
And so they mistook their way.
[rout 'em
When they seek for preferments the rebels do
And having no money, they must go without 'em,
The courtiers do carry such stomachs about 'em,
They spake no English but pay.

And those very rebels that hated the king,

And no such office allow;

By the help of their boldness, and one other thing. Are brought to the king to bow.

And there both pardons, and honours they have,
With which they think they're secure and brave,
But the title of knight, on the back of a knave,
Is like a saddle upon a sow.

Those men are but fools, as matters now stand,
That would not be rebels and traitors,
To grow rich and rant o'er the best of the land,
And tread on the poor cinque quaters.
To do what they list, and none dare complain,
To rise from a cart and drive Charles his wain,
And for this be made lords and knights in grain,
O'tis sweet to ambitious natures.

If the times turn about 'tis but to comply,
And make a formal submission;
And with every new power to live and die,

Then they are in a safe condition.

For none are condemned but those that are dead,
Nor must be secur'd, but those that are fled,
And none but the poor rogues sequestred,
The great ones buy remission.

The fortieth part of their riches will
Secure t'other thirty-nine;

And so they will keep above us still,

But hang't, we'll ne'er repine.

The devil does into their natures creep,
That they can no more from their villany keep,
Than a wolf broke loose, can from killing of sheep,
Or a poet refrain from wine.

Now Heaven preserve our merciful king,
And continue his grace and pity,
And may his prosperity be like a spring,

And stream from him to the city!
May James and Henry, those dukes of renown,
Be the two supporters of England's crown!
And may all honest men enjoy what's their own?
And so I conclude my ditty.

THE HOLY PEDLAR

FROM a foreign shore

I am not come to store

Your shops with rare devices: No drugs do I bring

From the Indian king,

No peacocks, apes, nor spices,

Such wares I do show

As in England do grow,

And are for the good of the nation Let no body fear

To deal in my ware,

For sacrilege now's in fashion.

I the pedlar am,

That came from Amsterdam,