Humour wit Satire of the Seventeenth Century 31

Humour wit Satire of the Seventeenth Century 31

THE CUNNING NORTHERNE BEGGER

 

Who all the By-standers doth earnestly pray

To bestow a penny upon him to day.

 

 

To the Tune of _Tom of Bedlam_.

 

[Illustration]

 

 

I am a lusty begger, [29.]

And live by others giving,

I scorne to worke,

But by the highway lurke,

And beg to get my living:

I'le i' th' wind and weather,

And weare all ragged Garments,

Yet though I am bare,

I am free from care,

A fig for high preferments.

_For still will I cry good, your worship, good sir,

Bestow one poor denier, sir;

Which when I've got,

At the Pipe and Pot,

I soon will it cashiere, sir._

 

I have my shifts about me,

Like _Proteus_ often changing,

My shape when I will

I alter still,

About the country ranging:

As soon as I a Coatch see,

Or Gallants by come riding,

I take my Crotch,

And rouse from my Couch,

Whereas I lay abiding.

_And still doe cry, &c._

 

Now as a wandring Souldier,

(That has i' th' warres bin maymed

With the shot of a Gunne)

To Gallants I runne,

And begg, sir, helpe the lamed:

I am a poore old Souldier

And better times once viewed,

Though bare now I goe,

Yet many a foe,

By me hath been subdued.

_And therefore I cry &c._

 

Although I nere was further,

Than Kentish-street in Southwarke,

Nor ere did see

A Battery

Made against any bulwarke;

But with my Tricks and Doxes,

Lay in some corner lurking,

And nere went abroad,

But to beg on the road,

To keep my selfe from working:

_And alwaies to cry &c._

 

Anon I'm like a saylor

And weare old Canvas cloathing,

And then I say

The Dunkerks away,

Took all and left me nothing:

Sixe ships set all upon us,

'Gainst which we bravely ventur'd

And long withstood,

Yet could doe no good,

Our ship at length they enter'd

_And therefore I cry &c._

 

Sometime I like a Criple

Upon the ground lye crawling,

For money I begge,

As wanting a legge

To beare my corps from falling:

Then seeme I weake of body,

And long t' have beene diseased,

And make complaint

As ready to faint,

And of my griefs increased.

_And faintly I cry &c._

 

My flesh I can so temper,

That it shall seeme to feister

And looke all ore,

Like a raw sore,

Whereon I stick a plaister:

With blood I daub my face then,

To faigne the falling sicknesse,

That in every place

They pitty my case,

As if it came from weaknesse.

_And then I doe cry &c._

 

Then as if my sight I wanted,

A Boy doth walke beside me,

Or else I doe

Grope as I goe,

Or have a dog to guide me:

And when I'm thus accounted,

To th' highway side I hye me,

And there I stand

With Cords in my hand,

And beg of all comes nye me.

_And earnestly cry &c._

 

Next to some country fellow

I presently am turned,

And cry alacke,

With a Child at my back,

My house and goods were burned:

Then me my Doxes follow,

Who for my Wifes believed,

And along wee two

Together goe,

With such mischances grieved.

_And still we doe cry &c._

 

What though I cannot labour,

Shall I therefore pine with hunger,

No, rather than I

Will starve where I lye,

I'le beg of the money monger:

No other care shall trouble

My minde, nor griefe disease me,

Though sometimes the flash

I get or the lash

'Twill but a while displease me.

_And still will I cry &c._

 

No tricks at all shall scape me,

But I will by my maunding

Get some reliefe

To ease my griefe,

When by the highway standing:

'Tis better be a Begger

And aske of kind good fellowes,

And honestly have

What we do crave,

Than steale and goe to the Gallowes.

_Therefore I'le cry &c._

 

FINIS.

 

Printed at London for _F. Coules_.[F. 59]

 

[Footnote 59: Same as Francis Coles (see "The Great Boobee").]

 

 

[26.] One coming into _New-Market_ to buy some Butter, and there

cheapened some; and the woman askt. 10d a pound: then he smelt to it;

_What_, says she, _do you smell to it, it seems you do not like my

Butter: Yes_, says he, _but 'tis no better than it should be. Then

you'll buy none_, says she: _No_, says he, _for a reason best known

to myself_. Then she askt him the reason, and with much importunity he

told her, 'twas because he had no Money: _Well then_, says the Woman,

_take it for nothing, so you'll pay me for it next time you come_.

 

 

Sirrah, you are base [12.]

To spit in my face,

That he vow'd, he wou'd him kill;

Sir, I pray forbear,

I thought no hurt here,

Nay, I'le tread it out, if you will.

 

 

_A contest at the_ Hoop-Tavern _between two Lawyers_.

 

Two _Lawyers_ had of late a _Tavern_ Jarr [25.]