John Ashton

A new merry Medley, shewing the power, the strength, the operation, and the vertue that remains in good Ale, which is accounted the Mother-drink of England.

All you that do this merry Ditty view,

Taste of Joan's Ale, for it is strong and new.

To a pleasant New Northern Tune.

There was a jovial Tinker

[122.]There was a jovial Tinker,

Which was a good Ale Drinker,

He never was a shrinker,

believe me this is true.

And he came from the wild²³⁶ of Kent,

When all his money was gone and spent,

Which made him like a Jack a Lent.

And Jones Ale is new,

And Jones Ale is new Boys,

And Jones Ale is new.

The Tinker he did settle,

Most like a man of Mettle,

And vow'd to pawn his Kettle,

now mark what did ensue.

His Neibors they flockt in apace,

To see Tom Tinker's comely face,

Where they drank soundly for a space,

Whilst Jones Ale &c

The Cobler and the Broom-man,

Came next into the room man,

And said they would drink for boon man

let each one take his due.

But when good liquor they found,

They cast their caps upon the ground

And to the Tinker they drank round;

Whilst Jones Ale &c

The Rag man he being weary,

With the bundle he did carry,

He swore he would be merry,

and spend a shilling or two.

And he told his Hostis to her face,

The Chimney Corner was his place

And he began (to) drink apace.

And Jones Ale &c

The Pedler he grew nigher,

For it was his desire,

To throw the Rags i'th' fire,

and burn the bundle blew.

So whilst they drank whole flashes,

And threw about the Glasses,

The rags were burnt to ashes,

And Jones Ale &c

And then came in a Hatter,

To see what was the matter,

He scorned to drink cold water,

amongst that Jovial crew.

And like a man of courage stout,

He took the quart-pot by the snout,

And never left till all was out,

O Jones Ale &c

The Taylor being nimble

With Bodkin, Shears, and Thimble,

He did no whit dessemble,

I think his name was True

He said that he was like to choak,

And called so fast for lap and smoak,

Until he had pawned his Vinegar Cloake,

For Jones Ale &c

Then came a pittiful Porter,

Which often did resort there,

Quoth he i'le shew some sport here,

amongst this jovial crew.

The Porter he had very bad luck,

Before that it was ten o'clock,

The fool got drunk and lost his frock,

For Jones Ale &c.

The bony brave Shoomaker,

A brave Tobacco taker,

He scorned to be a Quaker

I think his name was Hugh.

He called for liquor in so fast,

Till he forgot his Awl and Last,

And up the reckonings he did cast,

Whilst Jones Ale &c

And then came in the Weaver,

You never saw a braver,

With a Silk-man, and a Glover,

Tom Tinker for to view

And so to welcome him to Town,

They every man spent half a crown,

And so the drink went merrily down,

For Jones Ale &c

Then came a drunken Dutchman,

And he would have a touch, man,

But he soon took too much, man,

which made them after rue.

He drank so long as I suppose,

Till greasie drops fell from his nose,

And like a beast befoul'd his hose,

Whilst Jones Ale &c

A Welshman he came next, Sir,

With joy and sorrow mixt Sir,

Who being partly vext Sir,

he out his dagger drew.

Cuts-plutter-a-nails, quoth Taffie then,

A Welshman is a Shentleman

Come Hostis fill's the other Can,

For Jones Ale &c.

Thus like to men of courage stout,

Courageously they drank about,

Till such time all the ale was out,

as I may say to you.

And when the business was done,

They every man departed home,

And promised Jone again to come,

when she had brew'd anew.

FINIS.

Printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, J. Clarke, W. Thackeray and T. Passinger.

²³⁵ For tune, see Appendix.

²³⁶ Weald.

[17.] A Shoomaker thought to mock a Collier being black, saying, What news from Hell? how fares the Devil? Faith, says the Collier, he was just riding forth as I came thither, and wanted nothing but a Shoomaker to pluck on his boots.

[123.]

THE SCOTS HOLDING THEIR YOVNG KINGES NOSE TO ye GRINSTOne

THE SCOTS HOLDING THEIR YOVNG KINGES NOSE TO Y^E GRINSTO^NE

Come to the Grinstone Charles tis now to late

To Recolect, tis presbiterian fate

You Couinant pretenders must I bee

The subiect of youer Tradgie Comedie.

"Stoope Charles."

Jockie

The date of this curious political caricature is 14th July 1651. It must be remembered that Charles II. was crowned at Scone on 1st January 1651, and this satire deals with the behaviour of the Scots towards their young monarch. It is too long to give in extenso, but the following will give a fair idea of its tenor. Above the illustration are printed these lines:—

On either side of the print is a long poem, of which I will only give the commencement:—

[110.] Upon a new yeares day Maister Hobson sitting at dinner in a Poets Company, or one, as you may tearme him, a writer of histories, there came a poore man and presented him a cople of orringes, which hee kindly tooke as a new yeares guift, and gave the poore man for the same, an angell of goold, and there upon gave it to his wife to lay it up among his other jewels, considering that it had likewise cost him an Angel, the which she did. The Poet sitting by, and marking the bounty of Ma. Hobson for so small a matter, he went home, and devised a booke contayning forty sheets of paper, which was halfe a yeare in writing, and came and gave it to Maister Hobson in dedication, and thought in his mind, that he, in recompencing the poore man so much for an orringe, would yeeld far more recompence for his booke, being so long in studying. Maister Hobson tooke the Poets booke thankfully, and perseving he did it onely for his bounty shewed for the orringe given him: willed his wife to fetch the said orringe, which he gave to the Poet, being then almost rotten, saying, here is a jewel which cost me a thousand times the worth in gould, therefore I think thou art well satisfied for thy bookes dedication: the poet seeing this, went his way all a shamed.

[26.] A deaf Man was selling Pears at the Towns end in S^t Gileses, and a Gentleman riding out o' th' Town, askt him what 'twas a Clock? He said Ten a Penny, Master: Then he askt him agen what 'twas a Clock? He told 'em indeed he could afford no more. You Rogue, says he, I'll kick you about the streets. Then says the man, Sir, if you won't, another will.

[4.] A woman coming to a Parson, desir'd him to preach a Funeral Sermon on her Son that was lately dead; the Parson promised her to do it; but she desiring to know the Price of his Sermon; he told her it was Twenty Shillings. Twenty Shillings! says she, An Ass spoke for an Angel, and won't you speak under Twenty Shillings? The Parson being a little netled at her, told her she was better fed than taught. Sir, says she, 'tis very true; for my Husband feeds me, and You teach me.

[93.] George (Peele) was at Bristow, and there staying somewhat longer than his coyne would last him, his Palfrey that should bee his Carrier to London, his head was growne so big, that he could not get him out of the stable; it so fortuned at that instant, certaine Players came to the Towne, and lay at that Inne where George Peele was: to whom George was well knowne, being in that time an excellent Poet, and had acquaintance of most of the best Players in England; from the triviall sort hee was but so so; of which these were, only knew George by name, no otherwise. There was not past three of the Companie come with the Carriage, the rest were behinde, by reason of a long Journey they had; so that night they could not enact; which George hearing, had presently a Stratageme in his head, to get his Horse free out of the stable, and Money in his Purse to beare his charges up to London. And thus it was: Hee goes directly to the Maior, tels him he was a Scholler and a Gentleman, and that he had a certaine Historie of the Knight of the Rodes; and withall, how Bristow was first founded, and by whom, and a briefe²³⁷ of all those that before him had succeeded in Office in that worshipfull Citie: desiring the Maior, that he, with his presence, and the rest of his Brethren, would grace his labors. The Maior agreed to it, gave him leave, and withall appointed him a place: but for himselfe, hee could not be there, being in the evening: but bade him make the best benefit he could of the Citie; and very liberally gave him an Angell, which George thankfully receives, and about his businesse he goes, got his Stage made, his Historey cryed, and hyred the Players Apparell, to furnish out his Shew, promising to pay them liberally; and withall desired them they would favour him so much, as to gather him his money at the doore; (for hee thought it his best course to imploy them, lest they should spie out his knaverie; for they have perillous heads.) They willingly yeeld to doe him any kindnes that lyes in them; in briefe, carry their apparell in the Hall, place themselves at the doore, where George in the meane time, with the tenne shillings he had of the Maior, delivered his Horse out of Purgatorie, and carries him to the Townes end, and there placeth him, to be ready at his comming. By this time the Audience were come, and some forty shillings gathered, which money George put in his purse, and putting on one of the Players Silke Robes, after the trumpet had sounded thrice, out he comes, makes low obeysance, goes forward with his Prologue, which was thus:

Which being said, after some fire workes that hee had made of purpose, threw out among them, and downe stayres goes he, gets to his Horse, and so with fortie shillings to London; leaves the Players to answer it; who when the Jest was knowne, their innocence excused them, beeing as well gulled as the Maior and the Audience.

²³⁷ A list or catalogue.

[82.] There was a faire ship of two hundred tuns lying at the Tower Wharfe at London, where a Countryman passing by, most earnestly looked on the said ship, and demanded how old shee was. One made answer that she was a yeare old. Good Lord blesse me, said the Countryman, is shee so big growne in one yeere, what a greatnesse will shee bee by the time she comes to my age?

[82.] Twelve Schollers riding together, one of them said, my masters, let us ride faster. Why? quoth another, methinks wee ride a good pace, I'le warrant it is foure mile an hour. Alas, said the first, what is foure mile an houre amongst us all?

[17.] A patient man coming home from work, but it seems did not bring home to his Shrewish Wife so much money as she expected; with that she flew about his ears, and did so jole him! Good wife, says he, be quiet, for I would willingly wear my bands without cuffs, if you please.

[105.] On a night Scogin and his chamber-fellow, and two or three of the Bishops servants being merrily disposed, consult how they might have good cheere and pay no money, and every one invented a way as they thought best. At last Scogin said, I have invented a cleanly shift. At the signe of the Crowne against Peter's Church, is a new Tapster, which ere this hath not seene any of us, and he is also purblind, so that if he see us hereafter, he cannot know us. Therefore wee will goe thither and make good cheere, and when we have a reckoning, we will contend who shall pay all; then will I say to avoid the contention, that the Tapster shall be blinded, and we wil run round about him, and whosoever he catcheth first, let him pay for all, and so we may escape away. Every man liked Scogin's device best, so in conclusion they came thither, and had good cheere, for they spared no cost: so that in the end their reckoning drew to ten Shillings. Then as Scogin had devised afore, they did. The Tapster was blinded, so they ran round about him, and first Scogin got out, and then another, so that at last they got all away, and left the tapster groping in every place about the house for him that should pay the shot. The master of the house being in a chamber next to the place where they were, and hearing the stamping that they made, came in to see what they did, whom the Tapster caught in his armes, saying, Sir, you must pay the reckoning. Marry, said his Master, so I thinke I must indeed, for here is no body else to pay it. Then the Tapster and his Master sought and enquired for Scogin and the rest, but they could neither find them, nor heare newes of them.

[94.] Hangmen practice their cunning for the most part upon good natur'd men, because they are ready to forgive, before the hurt be attempted.

[4.] A Parson who had not much Wit to spare, seeing his Son play roguish Tricks, Why, Sirrah, said he, did you ever see me do so, when I was a Boy, as you are?

[4.] A Precise Fellow hearing much swearing in a Bowling Green, said, For Shame Gentlemen, forbear, it is God's great mercy the Bowling Green doth not fall on your Heads.