or The Old Mans rehearsall, what brave dayes he knew A great while agone, when his old Cap was new. To the Tune of Ile nere be drunke againe. [94*.]When this Old Cap was new, tis since two hundred yeere, No malice then we knew, but all things plentie were: All friendship now decayes, (beleeve me this is true) Which was not in those dayes, when this old Cap was new. The Nobles of our Land were much delighted then, To have at their command a Crue of lustie Men: Which by their Coates were knowne of Tawnie, Red or Blue, With Crests on their sleeves showne when this old Cap was new. Now Pride hath banisht all, unto our Lands reproach, Then he whose meanes is small, maintaines both Horse and Coach. Instead of an hundred Men, the Coach allows but two; This was not thought of then, when this old Cap was new. Good Hospitalitie was cherisht then of many, Now poore men starve and die, and are not helpt by any For Charitie waxeth cold, and Love is found in few; This was not in time of old, when this old Cap was new. Where ever you travel'd then, you might meet on the way Brave Knights and Gentlemen, clad in their Country Gray; That courteous would appear, and kindly welcome you, No Puritans then were, when this old Cap was new. Our Ladies in those dayes in civill Habit went, Broad-cloth was then worth prayse, and gave the best content; French Fashions then were scorn'd, fond Fangles then none knew, Then Modestie Women adorn'd, when this old Cap was new. A Man might then behold, at Christmas, in each Hall, Good Fires, to curbe the Cold, and Meat for great and small. The Neighbours were friendly bidden, and all had welcome true, The poor from the Gates were not chidden, when this old Cap was new. Black Jackes to every man were fill'd with Wine and Beere, No Pewter Pot nor Kanne in those dayes did appeare: Good cheare in a Noble-mans house was counted a seemly shew, We wanted no Brawne nor Sowse when this old Cap was new. We tooke not such delight in Cups of Silver fine, None under the degree of a Knight, in Plate drunk Beere or Wine. Now each Mechanicall man, hath a Cup-board of Plate for a shew, Which was a rare thing then, when this old Cap was new. Then Briberie was unborne, no Simonie men did use, Christians did Usurie scorne, devis'd among the Jewes. Then Lawyers to be Feed, at that time hardly knew, For man with man agreed, when this old Cap was new. No Captaine then carowst nor spent poore Souldiers Pay, They were not so abus'd as they are at this day. Of seven dayes they make eight, to keepe from them their due, Poore Souldiers had their right when this old Cap was new. Which made them forward still to goe, although not prest, And going with good will, their fortunes were the best. Our English then in fight did forraine Foes subdue, And forst them all to flight, when this old Cap was new. God save our gracious King, and send him long to live, Lord, mischiefe on them bring, that will not their almes give. But seeke to rob the Poore, of that which is their due; This was not in time of yore, when this old Cap was new. M. P.169 FINIS. Printed for the Assignes of Thomas Symcocke. [77.] In the Country Tarlton told his Hostesse he was a Conjurer. O, Sir (sayes she) I had pewter stolne off my shelf the other day, help me to it, and I will forgive you all the pots of Ale you owe mee, which is sixteene dozen. Sayes Tarlton, To morrow morning the Divell shall help you to it, or I will trounce him. Morning came, and the Hostesse and he met in a roome by themselves. Tarlton, to passe the time with exercise of his wit with circles and tricks, fals to coniure, having no more skill than a dogge. But see the iest, how contrarily it fell out: as he was calling out, mons, pons, simul & fons, and such like, a Cat (unexpected) leapt from the gutter window, which sight so amazed Tarlton, that he skipt thence, & threw his Hostesse downe, so that he departed with his fellowes, and left her hip out of joynt, being then in the Surgeons hands, & not daring to tell how it came. [4.] One ask'd a Fellow if he would go into the Water with him: No, says he, I'll never go into the Water till I have learnt to Swim. [26.] A Woman accidentally coming into the room where they were, and hearing them speak of that Frost170 in Germany, told some such stories; but when she saw the Company began to scruple at the truth of it (which I wonder they did, if they consider but her following discourse) then she up and told them That her dear and loving Husband, peace be with him, was in that great Frost, out late one night, which, truly, Gentlemen, I believe was the occasion of his death; though he lingred Fourteen or Fifteen years after it; he, I say, riding that night, came to a Common, where were great store of very good Cole-pits, insomuch that he fell down to the bottom in one of them, and his Horse fell directly upon him; that it was impossible at that time of night, and in such weather, to be relieved in that great distress; and, having lain so for a long time, and no hopes to be relieved at all, he presently bethought himself, and immediately rose, and went to the next Village, and there borrowed a Pickaxe and a Spade, and then came back with 'em to the Pit, and first digged out himself, and then his Horse, and so about Five a Clock in the Morning came home; but so weary and so cold, that he could not unbutton his Doublet: Nay, says she, after I had hope (sic) him off with all his Cloaths: he was so benumb'd, that I was forc'd to take a Warming Pan of hot Coles, and so went all over his body, yet was he so cold, that he scarcely felt, though the Warming Pan sometimes stood a pretty while together in one place; which truly, Gentlemen, I was fain to do for my Dear Husband: which confirmed them in the belief of it, that it was as true as any of the rest, and gave her thanks for it also, and so she made them half a dozen reverend Courchys and bid 'em good by. On a Cobler. [5.]Death at a Coblers doore oft made a stand, And alwaies found him on the mending hand; At last came death in very foule weather, And ript the soale from the upper leather: Death put a trick upon him, and what was't? The Cobler call'd for's awle, death brought his Laste. [82.] There was a Scottish Gentleman that had sore eyes, who was counselled by his Physitians to forbeare drinking of wine: but hee said hee neither could nor would forbeare it, maintaining it for the lesser evill, to shut up the windowes of his body, than to suffer the house to fall downe, through want of repair. [52.] In Gloucestershire dwelt one that cured frantick men in this manner; when the fit was on them he would put them in a gutter of water, some to the knees, some to the middle, and some to the neck, as the disease was on them. So one that was well amended, standing at the gate, by chance a Gentleman came riding by with his Hawks and his Hounds. The mad fellow called him, and said, Gentleman, whether go you? On hunting (quoth the Gentleman.) What do you with all those Kites and Dogs? They be Hawks and Hounds, quoth the Gentleman. Wherefore keep you them? (quoth the other). Why, (quoth he) for my pleasure. What do they cost you a yeare to keepe them? Forty pounds (quoth the Gentleman) And what do they profit you? (quoth he) Some ten pounds (quoth the Gentleman) Get thee quickly hence, quoth the fellow, for if my Master finde thee here, he will put thee into the gutter up to the throat. The next illustration is a scathing satire on the treatment of the army in Ireland. Perhaps the tersest notice of the history of this time is in The Chronological Historian, by W. Toone. "16 Feb. 1646. The Parliament sent a Committee to form the Army for Ireland.—The Commissioners found the Army not inclined to obey them."
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