Joseph Woodfall Ebsworth.

Merry drollery compleat, being jovial poems, merry songs, &c. online

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What Fellow is that ? why, it seems a Souldate ;
Good morrow, good morrow to thee :
Why how now my friends, all for your ends,
Will you make up a peace without me ?

You know in a word the power of the Sword,
A Canon may conquer a King :
But a sharp Sword will make a Scepter to shake ;
Faith you have the World in a sling.

Compare the whole Land to the parts of a man,
The Country's the Legs and the Toes,
And without a riddle the City is the middle,
But the Souldier is the head and the Nose.

Though now we wear Blades,

We once were of Trades,

And shall be whilst Trading endures :

Our Officers are, although men of war,


1 86 Merry Dr oiler ie;

Some Goldsmiths, some Drapers,
And Brewers.

Do you get increase, we'll guard you with peace,
The Sword shall not come where the Axe is,
We'll take off your cares : we'll take off your fears :
But when will you take of [f ] our Taxes ?

We kept Spaniards from you,

That would overcome yee,

Whilst you do plough, harrow and thresh, (bone

The Frenchman is our own, What is bred in the

Will hardly get out of the flesh.

We quarter in Villages, Cities and Towns,
And sometimes we lie in the Fields.
But if from your Colours you offer to run,
Then you must be laid neck and heels.

Through Countries we march, & for enemies search,
And command all things in Bravadoes.
But oh, my good friend, if you do offend,
I'm sure you must have the Strappadoes.

When, Sir, the City still shall fit you

With what you do deserve,

The Country Cowman and the ploughman

Will not let you starve :


Complete. 187

With Buff and Beaver we will ever
Bless the back and head.

We will give thee mony enough, and Ammunition,
And seal to this condition. And so do I introth.
And I will spend my bloud Sir.
And I will spend my Treasure
To do the Souldier pleasure.

Why, now I thank you both.


Cho. Let the City, the Country, the Camp and the
Be the places of pleasure and Royal resort,
And let us observe in the midst of our sport,
That Fidelity makes us as firm as a Fort :
A Union well-grounded no malice can hurt.

[This ends Part First, in the Edition of Merry Drollery, 1661.]

The Indifferent Lover.

ve's fiery passions can a
er yielding pleasure or p
I like a mild and lukewarm zeal in love,

NO man Love's fiery passions can approve,
As either yielding pleasure or promotion : \ <
like a mild and lukewarm zeal in love,
Although I do not like it in devotion : \T

For it hath no coherence with my Creed,
To think that lovers mean as they pretend :
If all that said they died, had died indeed,
Sure long ere this the World had had an end.


1 88 Merry Dr oiler ie,

Some one perhaps of long Consumption dried,
And after falling into love might dye,
But I dare swear he never yet had died
Had he been half so sound at heart as I.

Another, rather than incur the slander
Of true Apostate, will false Martyr prove ;
I'll neither Orpheus be, nor yet Leander,
I'll neither hang nor drown my self for love.

Yet I have been a Lover by report,
And I have died for Love as others do,
Prais'd be Great Jove I died in such a sort,
As I revived within an hour or two.

Thus have I hVd, thus have I lov'd, till now,
And ne'r had reason to repent me yet,
And whosoever otherwise shall do,
His courage is as little as his wit.

Loves Torment.

WHen blind God Cupid, all in an angry mood,
And Cythera, the fairest Queen of Love,
Did leave Sylvanus pleasant shadowed woods,
And mounted up into the Heavens above,
Even then when Sol,
Even then when Sol


Complete. 189

In water set his bed,

Did seek to hide,

Did seek to hide
His golden shining head.

Like Philomel, all in a doleful wise,
I pass the silent coloured night in woe ;
No rest nor sleep can seize upon my eyes,
Oh cruel beauty that did torment me so !

No one can tell,

No one can tell
How I in sorrows dwelt,

Save only she,

Save only she
That hath like Passions felt.

The night is past all, and Aurora red
Begins to show her ruby-coloured face,
Leaving Old Tytan and his aged head,
The cloudy darkness from the skies to chase ;

Ah my poor heart,

Ah my poor heart
In flames of fire doth fry ;

I live in love,

I love and live,
I live, and yet I dye.

Each pretty little bird injoys his Mate,
And gently billing sits upon a Tree,


i go Merry Drollery,

And on the Verdant shadowed woods do prate,
Chirping their Notes with pleasant Harmony ;
I wish my Love,
I wish my Love -
My pretty bird may be
To ease my grief,
To ease my grief
And cure my malady.

The Rebel Red-coat.

COme Drawer, come fill us about more wine,
Let us merrily tipple, the day is our own,
We'll have our delights, let the Country go pine,

Let the King and the Kingdom groan :
For the day is our own, and so shall continue,

Whilst Monarchy we baffle quite,
We'll spend all the Kingdoms Revenue,

And sacrifice all to delight :
'Tis power that brings us all to be Kings,

And we'll be all crown'd by our might.

A fig for Divinity, Lecture and Law

And all that to Royalty do pretend, [Loyalty]
We will by our Swords keep the kingdoms in aw,

And our power shall never have end :
The Church and the State we'll turn into liquor,

And spend a whole town in a day,


Complete. 191

[We'll melt all their Bodkins the quicker

Into Sack, and so drink them away,
(We'll spend the demeans o' th' Bishops & Deans,

And over the Presbyter sway.

tThe nimble St. Patrick is sunk in a bog,

' And his Country-men sadly cry, Oh hone, Oh hone,

St. Andrew and 's kirk-men are lost in a fog,

1 And we are the Saints alone :

(Thus on our superiours and equals we trample,

Whilst Jockie the stirrop shall hold,
[The Citie's our Mule for example,

While we thus in plenty are rolPd,
5ach delicate Dish shall but answer our wish,

And our drink shall be cordial Gold.

Love lies a bleeding: In Imitation of
Law lies a bleeding.

LAy by your pleading,
Love lies a bleeding,

3urn all your Poetry, and throw away your reading.
Piety is painted,
And Truth is tainted,
_x)ve is a reprobate, and Schism now is Sainted,
The Throne Love doth sit on,

We dayly do spit on,


192 Merry Drollcrie,

It was not thus I wis, when Betty ruPd in Britain,

But friendship hath faultred,

Loves Altars are altered, (tred.

And he that is the cause, I would his neck were hal-

When Love did nourish

England did flourish,
Till holy hate came in and made us all so currish.

Now every Widgeon

Talks of Religion,
And doth as little good as Mahomet and his Pidgeon.

Each coxcombe is suiting

His words for confuting, (puting.

But heaven is sooner gain'd by suffering than by dis-

True friendship we smother,

And strike at our Brother [:]

Apostles never went to God by killing one another.

Let Love but warm ye

Nothing can harm ye,
When Love is General, there's Angels in the Army.

Love keeps his quarters,

And fears no tortures, (tyrs.

The bravest fights are written in the Book of Mar-
Could we be so civill

As to do good for evill
It were the only happy way to o'recome the divel.

The Flowers Love hath watred,


Complete. 193

Sedition hath scattred, (of hatred.

We talk with tongues of holiness, but act with hearts

He that doth know me,

And love will shew me,
Hath found the nearest noble way to overcome me.

He that hath bound me,

And then doth wound me, (me.

Wins not my heart, doth not conquer, but confound

In such a condition

Love is the physitian,
True Love and Reason makes the purest politician.

But strife and confusion,

Deceit and delusion,
Though it seem to thrive at first will make a sad


Love is a fewel,

A pretious Jewel, (the duel.

Tis Love must stanch the blood when Fury fights

Love is a loadstone,

Hate is a bloodstone, (stone.

Heaven is the North Point, and Love is the Load-
Though fury and scorn

Loves Temples have torn,
He'll keep his Covenant, and will not be forsworn.

His Laws do not border

On strife and disorder,
He scorns to get his wealth by perjury and murder.
N What

194 Merry Dr oiler ie,

What falshood drew in,

Grace never grew in,
Love will not raise him upon anothers mine.

He can present ye

With peace and plenty, (twenty.

Love never advanceth one by throwing down of

Where Love is in season,

There Truth is and Reason,
The soul of Love is never underlaid with Treason.

He never doth quarrel

For Princely apparrel,
Nor ever fixed a chair of state upon a barrel.

Love from the dull pit

Of Follies full pit
Never took an Anvil out, and put it in a pulpit.

Love is no sinker,

Truth is no slinker,
In mending breaches Love did never play the tinker.

Where Vengeance and Lust is,

No truth nor trust is,
As will appear at last in Gods high Court of Justice.

Pity and remorse is

The strength of Loves Forces,
Paul never converted men by stables filPd with


Mercy is fading,

Truth is degrading,

Love is the only cause of Plenty, Peace, & Trading.


Complete. 195

Love is a fire

Made of desire,
Whose chief Ambition is to heaven to aspire.

It stops the gradation

Of fury and passion, (Nation,

t governs all good Families, and best can guide a

The Low Land, the high Land,

And my Land, and thy Land,
rrew all in common straight when Love had left

(this Island.

Where peace is panting,

And rage is ranting,
an undoubted sign the King of Love is wanting.

Father and Mother,

Sister and Brother,
F Love be lacking, quickly mischief one another.

Where wrath is, the rod is

That ruines our bodies ;
/1th hate the divel is, but where Love is God is.

Then let us not doubt it,

But streight go about it,
o bring in Love again, we cannot live without it.

Then let the Graces

Crown our embraces,
nd let us settle all things in their proper places.

Lest persecution

Cause dissolution,
2t all purloyned wealth be made a restitution.

N 2 For

196 Merry Drollerie,

For though now it tickles,

Twill turn all to prickles, (sickles.

Then let's live in peace, and turn our Swords to

When Noah's Dove was sent out,

Then Gods Pardon went out, (it.

They that would have it so, I hope will say Amen to

A Catch.

BRing forth your Cunny skins, fair maids, to me,
And hold them fair that I may see
Gray, Black, and blew ; for your smaller skins
I'll give you Glasses, Laces, Pins :
And for your whole Cunny
I'll give you ready money.

Come, gentle Jone, do thou begin
With thy black, black, black Cunny skin,
And Mary then, and Kate will follow
With their silver'd-hair'd skins, and their yellow ;
Your white Cunny skin I will not lay by,
Though it be fat, it is [not] fair to the Eye.

Your gray it is warm, but for my money
Give me the bonny, bonny black Coney;
Come away, fair maids, your skins will decay,
Come and take money, maids, put your ware away;
I have fine Bracelets, Rings,

And I have silver Pins ;


Complete. 197

Coney skins, Coney skins,
Maids, have you any Coney skins.

A Catch of the Beggars.

FRom hunger and cold who lives more free,
Or who lives a merrier life than we ;
Our bellies are full, and our backs are warm,
And against all Pride our Rags are a Charm ;
Enough is a feast, and for to morrow
Let rich men care, we feel no sorrow.

The City, and Town, and every village

Afford us [either] an Alms, or a Pillage ;

And if the weather be cold and raw,

Then in a Barn we tumble in straw :

If fair and warm, in yea-Cock and nay-Cock
The Fields afford us a hedge or a hey-Cock.

The Time-server.

ROom for a Gamester that plaies at all he sees,
Whose fickle fancy fits such times as these,
One that saies Amen to every factious prayer,

From Hugh Peters Pulpit to S. Peters Chair,
One that doth defie the Crosier and the Crown,
But yet can bouze with Blades that Carrouze

N 3 Whilst

198 Merry Drollerie,

Whilst Pottle-pots tumble down, dery down ;
One that can comply with Surplice and with Cloak,
Yet for his end can I depend, [Independ]

Whilst Presbyterian broke Britains yoke.

This is the way to trample without trembling,

Tis the Sycophant's only secure,
Covenants and Oaths are badges of dissembling,

Tis the politick pulls down the pure :
To Profess and betray, to plunder and pray,
Is the only ready way to be great,

Flattery doth the feat :
Ne'r go, ne'r stir, will venter further
Than the greatest Dons in the Town,

From a Copper to a Crown.

I am in a temp'rate humour now to think well,
Now I'm in another for to drink well,
Then fill us up a Beer-boul boys, that we

May drink it merrily,
No knavish Spy shall understand,
For if it should be known,

'Tis ten to one we shall be trapan'd.

I'll drink to thee a brace of quarts,
Whose Anagram is call'd True Hearts,
If all were well as I would ha't,
And Britain cur'd of its tumour,

Complete. 199

I should very well like my Fate,
And drink my Sack at a cheaper rate,

Without any noise or rumour,

Oh then I should fix my humour.

But since 'tis no such matter, change your hue,

I may cog and flatter, so may you :
Religion is a Widgeon, and Reason is a Treason,

And he that hath a Loyal heart may bid the world

We must be like the Scottish man,

Who with intent to beat down Schism,
Brought in the Presbyterian,

With Canon and with Catechism :
If Beuk won't do't, then jockey shoot,

For the Kirk of Scotland doth command,
And what hath been, since they came in,

I think w' have cause to understand.

A Song.

GAther your Rose-buds while you may,
Old time is still a flying,
For that Flower that smells to day,
To morrow will be dying.

That Age is best, which if she force [is the first,]
While youth and blood are warmer,

N 4 But

2OO Merry Dr oiler ie,

But being [spent] she grows worse and worse,
And [Times] still succeeds the former.

The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a getting,
The sooner will his race be Run,
And nearer to his setting.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while you may, go marry,
For if you lose but once your prime
You may for ever tarry.



The Gelding of the Dtvel.

A Story strange I will you tell
Of the gelding of the Divel of hell,
And of the Baker of Mansfield Town,
That sold his bread both white and brown ;
To Nottingham Market he was bound,
And riding under the Willows clear
The Baker sung with a merry chear.

The Bakers horse was lusty and sound,
And worth in Judgement full five pound ;
His skin was smooth, and his flesh was fat,
His Master was well pleas'd with that,
Which made him sing so merry, merrily
As he was passing on the way.

Complete. 201

But as he rode over the hill
There met him two divels of hell :

Baker, Baker, then cry'd he,
How comes thy horse so fat to be ?
These be the words the Baker did say,
Because his stones are cut away.

Then, quoth the divel, if it be so,
Thou shalt geld me before thou dost go ;
First tye thy horse to yonder tree,
And with thy knife come and geld me ;
The Baker he had a knife for the nonce
Wherewith to cut out the devils stones.

The Baker, as it came to pass,
In haste alighted from his horse,
And the divel on his back he lay,
While the Baker cut his stones away,
Which put the divel to great pain
And made him to cry out amain.

O, quoth the divel, beshrew thy heart,
Thou dost not feel how I do smart,
And for the deed that thou hast done

1 will revenged be agen,

And underneath this Green-wood tree
Next Market day I will geld thee.


2O2 Merry Drollerie,

The Baker then but a little said,
But at his heart was sore afraid ;
He durst no longer then to stay,
But he rode hence another way :
And coming to his Wife, did tell
How he had gelt the divel of hell.

Moreover to his Wife he told

A tale that made her heart full cold,

How that the divel to him did say,

That he would geld him next Market day :

O, quoth the good wife, without doubt

I had rather both thy eyes were out.

For then all the people far and near,
That know thee, will but mock and jeer,
And good-wives they will scold and brawl,
And stoneless Gelding will thee call ;
Then hold content, and be thou wise,
And I'll some pretty trick devise.

I'll make the divel change his note,
Give me thy Hat, thy Band, and Coat,
Thy Hose and Doublet eke also,
And I like to a man will go ;
I'll warrant thee next Market day
To fright the divel clean away.



Complete. 203

When the Bakers wife was so drest,
With all her bread upon her beast,
To Nottingham Market, that brave Town,
To sell her bread, both white and brown,
And riding merrily over the hill,

there she spy'd the two divels of hell.

A little divel, and another,
As they were playing both together ;
Oh ho, quoth the divel, right fain,
Here comes the Baker riding amain :
Now be thou well, or be thou woe,

1 will geld thee before thou dost go.

The Bakers wife to the divel did say,
Sir, I was gelded yesterday :
O, quoth the divel, I mean to see ;
And pulling her coats above her knee,
And so looking upward from the ground,
O there he spy'd a terrible wound.

O, quoth the divel, now I see
That he was not cunning that gelded thee,
For when that he had cut out the stones,
He should have closed up the wounds,
But if thou wilt stay but a little space
I'll fetch some salve to cure the place.


2O4 Merry Drollerie,

He had not ran but a little way,

But up her belly crept a Flea :

The little divel seeing that,

He up with his paw and gave her a pat,

Which made the good wife for to start,

And with that she let go a rowzing fart.

O, quoth the divel, thy life is not long
Thy breath it smells so horrible strong,
Therefore go thy way, and make thy will,
Thy wounds are past all humane skill ;
Be gone, be gone, make no delay,
For here thou shalt no longer stay.

The good wife with this news was glad,
But she left the divel almost mad ;
And when she to her husband came,
With a joyful heart she told the same,
How she had couzned the divel of hell,
Which pleas'd her Husband wondrous well.

The Vagabond.

I Am a Rogue, and a stout one,
A most couragious drinker :
I do excell, it's known full well,
The Ratter, Tom, or Tinker:


Complete. 205

Then do I cry, Good your Worship
Bestow some small Denier a,
And bravely then at the bouking Ken
I'll bouze it all in beera.

My dainty Dames and Doxes,
When that they see [me] lacking,
Without delay, poor wretches, they
Will send the Duds a packing :
Then do I cry, &c.

Ten miles into a Market
I go to meet a Miser,
And in the throng I'll nip a bung,
And the party ne'r the wiser :
Then do I cry, ore.

If the Gentry be coming,
Then streight it is my fashion,
My leg I'll tye close to my thigh
To move them to compassion :
Then do I cry, 6<r.

When I hear a Coach come rumbling,
To my Crutches streight I hye me,
For being lame, it is a shame
Such Gallants should deny me ;
Then do I cry, &c.


206 Merry Drollery,

My Peg in a string doth lead me
When I go into the Town, Sir,
For to the blind all men are kind,
And with [? will] their Alms bestow, Sir ;
Then do I cry, &c.

I' th' winter time stark naked
I go into some City,
And every man, that spare them can,
Will give me cloaths for pity ;
Then do I cry, &c.

My doublet sleeves hang empty,
And for to beg the bolder,
For meat and drink my arm I'll shrink
Up close unto my shoulder,
Then do I cry, &>c.

If any gives me lodging
A courteous knave they find me,
For in my bed, alive, or dead,
I leave some Lice behind me ;
Then do I cry, &c.

If from out the Low Countries
I hear a Captains name, Sir,
Then straight I'll swear I have been there,
And so in fight came lame Sir ;
Then do I cry, &c.


Complete. 207

In Pauls Church-yard by a Filler
Sometimes you see me stand, Sir,
With a writ that shews what cares, what woes
I have past by Sea and Land, Sir ;
Then do I cry, 6<r.

Come buy, come buy a Horn-book,
Who buys my Pins and Needles :
Such things do I in the City cry
Oftimes to scape the Beadles ;
Then do I cry, &c.

Then blame me not for begging,
And boasting all alone, Sir,
My self I will be praising still,
For Neighbours I have none, Sir ;
Then do I cry, &c.

The Jovial Loyallist.

STay, shut the Gate,
T'other quart, 'faith 'tis not so late

As your thinking,
The Stars which you see in the Hemisphere be,
Are but studs in our cheeks by good drinking ;
The Sun's gone to tipple all night in the Sea boys,
To morrow he'll blush that he's paler than we boys,
Drink wine, give him water, 'tis Sack makes us the


208 Merry Drollerie,

Fill up the Glass,
To the next merry Lad let it pass,

Come away with't :

Let's set foot to foot, and but give our minds to't,
Tis heretical Six that doth slay wit :
Then hang up good faces, let's drink till our noses
Give freedom to speak what our fancy disposes,
Beneath whose protection, now under the rose is.

Drink off your Bowl,
'Twill enrich both your head and your soul

With Canary ;

For a carbuncl'd face saves a tedious race,
And the Indies above us we carry :
No Helicon like to the juice of good wine is,
For Phoebus had never had wit that divine is,

Had his face not been bow-dy'd as thine is, & mine


This must go round,
Off with your hats till the pavement be crown'd

With your Bevers.

A Red-coated face frights a Sergeant and his Mace,
Whilst the Constable trembles to shivers,
In state march our faces like some of the quorum,
While the whores do fall down, & the vulgar adore


And our noses like Link-boys run shining before








f Jovial Poems,
Of < Merry Songs,
\ Witty Drolleries,

Intermixed with Pleasant Catches.

The Second Part.


2 1 o The Second Part of

The Answer.

HOld, quaff no more,
But restore,

If you can, [what] you've lost by your drinking,
Three Kingdoms and Crowns,
With their cities and Towns,
While the King and his Progeny is sinking ;
The studs in your cheeks have obscur'd his star, boys,
Your drink and miscarriages in the late war, boys
Hath brought his Prerogative thus to the Bar, boys.

Throw down the Glass,

He's an ass

That extracts all his worth from Canary :
That valour will shrink,
Which is only good in drink,
Twas the Cup made the Camp to miscarry.
Ye thought in the world there was no power could

tame ye,

Ye tipled and whor'd till the Foe overcame ye,
Cuds-nigs and ne'r-stir Sir, hath vanquisht God-
dam: me.

Fly from the coast,
Or y' are lost,

And the water will run where the drink went,


Merry Drollery, Complete. 21 1

From hence you must slink,

If you swear and have no chink,
Tis the curse of a Royal Delinquent. [? course]
Ye love to see Beer bowls turn'd over the thumb

Ye love three fair Gamesters, four Dice and a Drum

3ut you'd as live see the divel as Oliver Cromwel,

Drink not the round,

You'll be drown'd

n the source of your Sack and your Sonnets,
Try once more your Fate
For the Kirk against the State, [? King]

Vnd go barter your Bever for Bonnets :

see how you'r charm'd by your female inchanters,
\nd therefore pack hence to Virginia for planters,
7 or an act and two red-coats will rout all the Ran-

A Catch. Q ,

Had she not care enough, care enough, \/
Care enough of the old man ?
She wed him, she fed him,
And to the bed she led him ;
For seven long winters she lifted him on :
But oh how she negl'd him, negl'd him,
Oh how she negl'd him all the night long !
o 2

2 1 2 The Second Part of

A Catch.

Here's a Health unto his Majesty with a Fa la la, 6<r.

Conversion to his enemies with a Fa la la, 6^.

And he that will not pledge this Health,

I wish him neither wit nor wealth,

Nor yet a Rope to hang himself with a Fa la la, &c.

Good Advice against Treason.

BUT since it was lately enacted high Treason
For a man to speak truth against the head of a
Let every wise man make use of his reason, (prate,

To think what he will, but take heed what he
For the Proverb doth learn us, (skin,

He that staies from the battel sleeps in a whole
And our words are our own, if we keep them within,
What fools are we then that to prattle do begin,
Of things that do not concern us.

Tis no matter to me who e'r gets the battel,

The Tubs or the Crosses, 'tis all one to me,

It neither increaseth my goods nor my cattel,
A beggar's a beggar, and so he shall be,

Unless he turn Traytor.

Let Misers take courses to hoard up their treasure,
Whose bounds have no limits[,] whose minds have

no measure,

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 10 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

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