VIII
My doublet sleeue hangs emptie, And for to begge the bolder, For meate and drinke mine arme I shrinke, Vp close vnto my shoulder.
Still doe I cry, etc.
IX
If a Coach I heere be rumbling, To my Crutches then I hie me, For being lame, it is a shame, Such Gallants should denie me.
Still doe I cry, etc.
X
With a seeming bursten belly, I looke like one half dead, Sir, Or else I beg with a woodden legge, And a Night-cap on me head, Sir, Still doe I cry, etc.
XI
In Winter time starke naked I come into some Citie, Then euery man that spare them can, Will giue me clothes for pittie.
Still doe I cry, etc.
XII
If from out the Low-countrie, [9]
I heare a Captaines name, Sir, Then strait I swere I have bin there; And so in fight came lame, Sir.
Still doe I cry, etc.
XIII
My Dogge in a string doth lead me, When in the towne I goe, Sir, For to the blind, all men are kind, And will their Almes bestow, Sir, Still doe I cry, etc.
XIV
With Switches sometimes stand I, In the bottom of a Hill, Sir, There those men which doe want a switch, Some monie give me still, Sir.
Still doe I cry, etc.
XV
Come buy, come buy a Horne-booke, Who buys my Pins or Needles?
In Cities I these things doe crie, Oft times to scape the Beadles.
Still doe I cry, etc.
XVI
In Pauls Church by a Pillar; [10]
Sometimes you see me stand, Sir, With a Writ that showes, what care and woes I past by Sea and Land, Sir.
Still doe I cry, etc.
XVII
Now blame me not for boasting, And bragging thus alone, Sir, For my selfe I will be praying still, For Neighbours have I none, Sir.
Which makes me cry, etc.
[1: penny]
[2: ale-house]
[3: drink]
[4: purse; Notes]
[5: steal his purse]
[6: girls; wh.o.r.es]
[7: p.a.w.n their clothes]
[8: gentleman]
[9: Notes]
[10: Notes]
THE MAUNDER'S INITIATION [Notes]
[1622]
[From _The Beggars Bush_ by JOHN FLETCHER; also in _The New Canting Dict_:--"Sung on the electing of a new dimber damber, or king of the gypsies"].
I
Cast your nabs and cares away, This is maunder's holiday: [1]
In the world look out and see, Where so blest a king as he _(Pointing to the newly-elected Prince.)_
II
At the crowning of our king, Thus we ever dance and sing: Where's the nation lives so free, And so merrily as we?
III
Be it peace, or be it war, Here at liberty we are: Hang all harmanbecks we cry, [2]
We the cuffins quere defy. [3]
IV
We enjoy our ease and rest, To the fields we are not pressed: And when taxes are increased, We are not a penny 'sessed.
V
Nor will any go to law, With a maunder for a straw, All which happiness he brags, Is only owing to his rags.
"Now swear him"--
I crown thy nab with a gage of ben bouse,[4]
And stall thee by the salmon into clowes,[5]
To maund on the pad, and strike all the cheats, [6]
To mill from the Ruffmans, Commission, and slates, [7]
Tw.a.n.g dells i' th' stiromel, and let the Quire Cuffin And Harman Beck strine and trine to the ruffin. [8]