Humour wit Satire of the Seventeenth Century 39
What is that the more ye lay on, the faster it wasteth?
_Solution._ That is a Whetstone, for the more ye whet the less is the
Whetstone.
A Money Monger choyce of Sureties had; [51.]
A Countrey fellow plaine in Russet clad;
His doublet Mutton-taffety Sheep-skins,
His sleeves at hand button'd with two good pins;
Upon his head a filthy greasie Hat,
That had a hole eate thorou it by a Rat,
A Leather Pouch that with a Snap-hance shut,
One hundred Hobnailes in his Shooes were put:
The stockings that his Clownish legs did fit,
Were Kersie to the calfe, and t'other knit;
And at a word, th' apparell that he wore
Was not worth twelve pence, at _Who gives more?_
The other surety of another stuffe,
His neck inviron'd with a double Ruffe,
Made Lawne and Cambrick both such common ware,
His Doublet set had falling Band to spare;
His fashion new, with last Edition stood,
His Rapier Hilts imbru'd in golden blood:
And these same trappings made him seeme one sound,
To passe his credit for an hundred pound,
So was accepted; Russet coat deny'd,
But when time came the money should be pay'd,
And Monsieur Usurer did hunt him out,
Strange alteration struck his heart in doubt;
For in the Counter[F. 72] he was gone to dwell,
And Brokers had his painted cloaths to sell;
The Usurer then further understands,
The Clowne (refus'd) was rich and had good lands;
Ready (through rage) to hang himselfe, he swore
That Silken Knaves should cozen him no more.
[Footnote 72: See footnote, _ante_ (F. 52).]
[8.] A seaman coming before the Judges of the Admiralty for admittance
into office in a ship bound for the _Indies_, was by one of the Judges
much sleighted, as an insufficient person for that office which he
sought for to acquire; till the Judge telling him that he believed
that he could not say the points of his Compass; the Seaman answered,
better than he could say his _Pater Noster_: The Judge replyed, that
he would wager twenty shillings with him of that; so the Seaman taking
him up, it came to trial, and the Seaman began and said all the
points of his Compass very exactly; the Judge likewise said his _Pater
Noster_, and when he had finished it, he required the wager according
to the agreement, because the Seaman was to say his Compass better
than he his _Pater Noster_, which he had not performed: nay hold,
quoth the Sea man, the wager is not finished, for I have but half
done; and so he immediately said his Compass backward very exactly,
which the Judge failing of in his _Pater Noster_, the Seaman carried
away the prize.
A Grave there was made [12.]
For one _Aylet_, he said
The Bell for him then did toul;
But you lye like a Knave,
It is not a Grave,
But only an Aylet hole.
[17.] One having a very great Nose, and thin beard, was told the
shadow of his Nose did hinder his Beard's growth.
[26.] An Apothecary in _Oxford_ spoke to a Country man by way of Jeer
to bring him some live Rats, and he would give him eighteen pence a
piece for them; and a fortnight after he brought them; and then
the Apothecary told him, _That he was provided the day before_. The
Country Fellow seeing he was abused, was resolved to be quit with him,
saying, _I am unwilling (seeing I have brought them) to carry them
back again_; and told him he would take three pence out in Physick
at some time or other; and so opened his Bag, and let them about the
Shop, which did so whisk up and down the Shelves, that in a little
space they broke him about forty Pots and Glasses, and could never get
rid of them since. _Probatum est._
_A Courtier and a Scholler meeting._
A Courtier proud walking along the Street, [5.]
Hap'ned by chance a Scholler for to meet,
The Courtier said, (minding nought more than place)
Unto the Scholler, meeting face to face,
To take the wall, base men Ile not permit,
The Scholler said, I will, and gave him it.
[4.] A Lady going to Mass to present her Tapers, fixed one to _St.
Michael_, and another to the _Devil_ that was at his Feet. The Clerk
seeing her, told her she did not well to offer a Candle to the Devil.
_No matter_, says the Lady, _'tis good to have Friends every where;
for we know not where we shall go._
[8.] There was a gentleman fell very sick, and a friend of his said
to him, Surely you are in danger, I pray you send for a Physician; but
the sick man answered, _It is no matter, for if I die I will die at
leisure_.
A wealthy Misers sonne, upon a day, [51.]
Met a poore Youth, that did intreat and pray
Something of Charitie in his distresse;
Helpe Sir (quoth hee) one that is Fatherlesse,
Sirrah (sayd hee) away, begone with speed,
Ile helpe none such; thou art a Knave indeed:
Dost thou complaine because thou wants a Father?
Were it in my case I would rejoyce the rather;
For if thy Father's death, cause thee repine,
I would my Father had excused thine.
The little Barly-Corne.[F. 73]
Whose Properties and Vertues here,
Shall plainly to the world appeare,
And make you merry all the yeere.
To the tune of _Stingo_
Come, and doe not musing stand, [55.]
if thou the truth discerne,
But take a full cup in thy hand,
and thus begin to learne,
Not of the earth, nor of the ayre,
at evening or at morne,
But, joviale boyes, your Christmas keep
_with the little Barly-Corne_.
[Illustration]
It is the cunningst Alchymist,
that ere was in the Land,
Twill change your Mettle when it list
in turning of a hand,
Your blushing Gold to Silver wan,
your Silver into Brasse,
Twill turn a Taylor to a man
_and a man into an ass_--
Twill make a poore man rich to hang
a signe before his doore,
And those that doe the Pitcher hang,
tho rich, twill make them poore;
Twill make the silliest poorest Snake[F. 74]
the King's great Porter[F. 75] scorne;
Twill make the stoutest Lubber weak,
_this little Barley Corne_.
It hath more shifts than _Lambe_[F. 76] ere had,
or _Hocus Pocus_ too,
It will good fellowes shew more sport
than _Bankes_[F. 77] his horse could doe:
Twill play you faire above the boord,
unless you take good heed,
And fell you though you were a Lord,
_and iustifie the deed_.
It lends more yeeres unto old Age,
than ere was lent by Nature,
It makes the Poet's fancy rage,
more than Castalian water;
Twill make a Huntsman chase a Fox,
and never winde his Horn,
Twill cheere a Tinker in the stockes,
_this little Barly-Corne_.
It is the only Will o' th' wispe
which leades men from the way,
Twill make the tongue ti'd Lawyer lisp
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