Humour wit Satire of the Seventeenth Century 87

Humour wit Satire of the Seventeenth Century 87

[67.] In a certaine towne there was a goose stolne, and it could not

bee found, out who stole it; so y^e minister a while after at service,

bade all y^e people kneele downe, who answered I. (aye) Many did, but

saith hee, he that stole y^e goose doth not. But I doe, quoth hee, and

was taken.

 

 

[103.] An English Gentleman taking into his Service (in pure

Compassion) an Irishman, who was forc'd to leave his Country upon his

Conversion from the Romish (of which he was a Priest) to the English

Church: Employed him in Errands, and sometimes let him follow him, to

acquaint him with the Town; and having staid at a Coffee House some

time, in expectation of a Man with whom he had Business, who not

coming, he left his Servant there, to tell him that he could stay

no longer, but was gone to such a Tavern. The Fellow immediately run

after his Master, and ask'd him What he should say to the Gentleman if

he should not come?

 

 

[110.] A poore begger man, that was foule, blacke, and loathsome to

behould, came on a time to Maister _Hobson_ as he walked in Moore

feelds, and asked something of him for an almes, to which Maister

_Hobson_ said, I prethee, good fellow, get thee from me, for thou

lookst as thou camst lately out of hell. The poore begger man,

perceving hee would give him nothing, answered forsooth, Sir, you say

true, for I came lately out of Hell indeed; why didst not thou tarry

there still? quoth maister _Hobson_; nay, Sir, quoth the begger, there

is no Roome for such begerr men as I am, for all is kept for such

gentlemen Cittizens as you be: this wity answere caused Maister

_Hobson_ to give the poore man a teaster.[F. 225]

 

[Footnote 225: Sixpence.]

 

 

[82.] A Fellow having more drinke than wit, in a winter evening made

a foolish vowe, to take the wall of as many as hee met betwixt the

Temple bar, and Charing Crosse; and comming neere the Savoy, where

stood a Poste, a little distance from the wall, the Drunkard tooke it

for a man, and would have the wall, beginning to quarrell and give the

Poste foule words: at which a man came by, and asked the matter, and

whom he spake to: hee answered hee would have the wall of that fellow

that stood so stiffly there: my friend, said the other, that is a

Poste, you must give him the way. Is it so, said the fellow, a pox

upon him, why did he not blow his horn?

 

 

[26.] Two Baboons being to be seen at their first coming to _London_,

abundance of Citizens and others did resort thither to take a view of

them, and did heartily laugh at their ugliness, and the strange faces

which they made; which a most motherly and very discreet woman being

present, did sharply thus rebuke 'em. "D'ye think you do well to laugh

at strangers, who understand not your Language, and if you were in

their Country, you'd take it for a great abuse, I warrant you, if they

should laugh at you."

 

 

[4.] King _James_ Riding a Hunting in Essex, comes to a Gate which

he must go through, and seeing a Country Clown at it, he says to

him, Prethee, good Fellow, open the gate. But he, knowing who it was,

answered, No, a'nt please your Grace, I am not worthy to be in that

Office; but I'le run and fetch M^r _Johnson_, who is a Justice of the

Peace, and lives a Mile off, and he shall open it for your Grace: so

he ran away as fast as he could, and left the King to open it himself.

 

 

 

 

THE FRENCH DANCING-MASTER

 

AND THE

 

ENGLISH SOLDIER.

 

 

Or, the Difference betwixt Fidling and Fighting

 

 

Displayed in a DIALOGUE betwixt an ENGLISHMAN

 

and a FRENCHMAN.

 

 

_Englishman._

 

_Monsieur_, good morn, whither away so faste? [115.]

Some great importance sure doth cause this haste;

Your running looks do in effect thus say,

_Monsieur_ is gone, 'cause Landlord asketh pay.

 

 

_Frenchman._

 

_Begar_ me no sush man, me scorn de shift

Me plus Affaires dat me from home do lift.

 

 

_Englishman._

 

You scorn to shift, tis true I think you say,

Witness your _Shirt_, not washt this many a day.

 

 

_Frenchman._

 

_Par me foy_ de Rascall to degrase,

_Ne autre_ man in de _varle_ live in such case;

_Begar_ though me no speak si bon English,

Me thrush Tord in de belly if de speak dis;

_Begar_ me de born Gentil-man de _France_

Me can learn English _a le mode_ de Dance:

Me play ode leetle Fidle, me can sing,

_Par ma foy_, no Poet _Orphus_ sush Musick bring;

_Begar_, you no sush man in all de _England_ have,

For de Fidle, and de Dancing brave.

 

 

_Englishman._

 

But when you come to meet your Foe in face

The Fidler and the Fidler's out of case.

 

 

_Frenchman._

 

_Begar_ de art _Jack-napes_ to a teetle,

Me be brave Fellow, me can feight a leetle;

Me wear _Feader_ in de Hat, me have _Tord_ by side,

Me be de Gentil-man when me on de _Horse_ ride;

_Englishman_ be a Clown, make Leg like a de Beare,

_Frenchman_ be de Gentil-man, he fidle, and he dance rare.

 

 

_Englishman._

 

'Tis true, in dancing you do us excel,

But can you, as the English, fight as well?

When _Mars_ unsheaths his Sword, and Canons roar,

And men lye welt'ring in their purple gore,

When Towns are burnt, and Cities are destroy'd,

To what use will your Dancing be employ'd?

 

 

_Frenchman._

 

_Begar_ he de great Fool to speak sush ting,

Brava, brava, de Dance, de Fidele, Sing;

No sush ting in de varle, to peepe, to dance,

To be dreass like de Madam, _a le Mode France_.

 

 

_Englishman._

 

Brave Monsieur! gallant Monsieur! wondrous rare!

Fidling and fooling, none with thee compare!

 

 

_Frenchman._

 

_Begar_, he be de Rogue, de Villain, de Carle,

To speak 'gainst de Dance, de brave ting in de varle;

_Begar_ me do love it out of all de Cry,

_Par ma foy_ he speak 'gainst it, tell loud lye:

_France-man_ is de Gentilman in de high Sphere,

Vat is de Clown vas dis skip de Angleterre

De French Monsieur skip and leap like de Spright,

He caper and kick, is not dat a rare Shite?

 

 

_Englishman._

 

A rare Shite 'tis indeed, I needs must say,

To see men skip like Puppets in a Play;

To act the Mimick, fidle, prate and Dance,

And cringe like Apes, is a le mode France:

But to be resolute, one to fight with ten,

And beat them, 's proper unto English men.

 

 

_Frenchman._

 

_Begar_ France man is couragio, feight like te Tiffell,

He kill, he slay, cutt men off de midle;

De brave Monsieurs, de _Oliver_, de _Rowland_,

_Begar_ de feight as long as de could stand;

_Amadis de Gaule_, de _Roy Charlemain_,

De make blood run down like drops of de rain,

_Begar_, with new fashion so exc'lent! so rare!

No men in de varle wid de French make compare.

 

 

_Englishman._

 

But _Monsieur_, have you never heard report

Of Poictiers, Crescy, and of Agen-court?

When _France_ was drown'd with streams of Frenchmen's blood,

And English Valor could not be withstood?

Sixth HENRY in _Paris_ Crown'd in State,

And _France_ (submissive) did on _England_ wait.

When only TALBOT'S Name did bear such sway,

To make Ten thousand French men run away?

Is not _France_, and the Nation still the same,

Whom _England_ did in all Encounters tame?

Have we not Hero's still who are endu'd

With Valor, (Stars of the first Magnitude?)

YORKS Duke, Brave ALBEMARLE, equal to those

Our Ancestors, who French men did oppose?

With other Worthies of deserved Fame,

Make Frenchmen tremble for to hear their Name.