The Merry Drollery was reissued by Ebsworth in 1876 without the "worst" songs. These were reserved for the limited edition 16pg supplement which is difficult to find. If you wish to verify the text below, please download the PDF of the scanned pages.
SUPPLEMENT
OF
RESERVED SONGS
FROM
MERRY DROLLERY
1661.
SUPPLEMENTARY
SONGS RESERVED FROM 1661
EDITION
OF The
MERRY DROLLERY.
(See Notes on our pages 229,
243, 253, 255.)
A Song. [p. 139,]
There was three birds that
built very low,
The first and the second cry'd, have at her toe,
The third went merrily in and
in, in,
And the third went merrily in;
O never went Wimble in timber
more nimble
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
There was three birds built on
a pin,
The first and second cry'd,
have at her shin,
The third he went merrily in
and in, in,
The third he went merrily in;
O never went Wimble in timber
more nimble
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
There was three birds that
built on a tree,
The first and the second cry'd, have at her knee,
And the third he went merrily in and in, in, [p. 140.]
And the third he went merrily in ;
O never went Wimble in Timber
more nimble
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
There was three birds that
built very high,
The first and the second cry'd,
have at her t . . . . ,
The third he went merrily in
and in, in,
The third he went merrily in ;
O never went Wimble in Timber
more nimble
With so little screwing and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
R*
There was three birds that
built on a stump,
The first and the second cry'd,
have at her r . . . ,
And third he went merrily in
and in, in,
And the third he went merrily
in;
O never went Wimble in Timber
more nimble
With so little screwing, and knocking on't in,
With so little knocking in.
An encounter between Mars,
Venus,
and Cupid. [p. 146.]
Upon a certain time when Mars
And Venus
met together,
All in a shady Bower, where she
Did oft admit him thither :
But Cupid he did chance to see
That Mars
did hit the Mark so narrow,
The boy still cry'd, and could not abide,
Come off my Mother Sirra.
Then Venus thought her
arable land
Lay void, and was not tilled,
Which caus'd her barn so empty
stand [? to empty]
So long as 'twas not filled;
Quoth she, I'll have some husbandman
Shall take my ground to sow and harrow,
Still cry'd the Lad as he was mad,
Come off my mother Sirra.
Though Mars the God of
battel be, [p,
147.]
Yet.he could not it endure,
For Venus made his Spear to yield,
Although the point was sure :
But when she felt the Mettel melt,
She rais'd like a lively Sparrow,
Still cry'd the Lad as he were mad,
Come off my Mother Sirrah.
Then Mars put up his
weapon blunt,
.And Venus trimm'd her tresses :
Oh, curst, quoth he, that oft may see
That such a wife possesses;
Then straight he sent to Jupiter,
And Venus
hyed her to her marrow,
Still cry'd the Lad as he were mad,
Come off my Mother Sirrah.
Peace Boy, quoth he, and be
content,
For Venus is a woman,
And can subdue the greatest God
That rights by art or cunning :
But if that thou wilt give me leave
To draw my golden headed Arrow,
I'll give thee a Groat; all's one for that,
Come off my Mother Sirrah.
A Song. [p. 153.]
Mine own sweet honny-bird-Chuck,
Come sit thee down by me,
And thou and I will truck
For thy Commodity:
The weather is cold and chilly,
And heating will do thee no
harm,
I'll put a hot think in thy b .
. . .
To keep thy body warm.
Our Landlady hath brought us
All that the house affords,
'Tis time to lay about us,
Then prethee make no words :
I know thou art young and tender, [p.
154.]
Although thy [s]C[in] be rough,
Thy Fort if thou'lt to me surrender,
I'll man it well enough.
I find by thy whispering
Palm-sweat,
And thine eyes like noon,
Thy panting breasts, as thy pulse, beat,
Thou'lt do it to some tune :
Then give thy mind to it, my honny
Thou shalt never have cause to
rue
That ever thou hazard'st thy C—
To one of the jovial Crew.
R * 2
Contentment, [p. 161.]
1.
What though the Times produce
effects
Are worth our observation,
He's mad that at it once dejects,
Or does remove his station ;
Give me the Wench, that's like a Tench
In holding up her b . . . . ,
For to receive, and to conceive
The most heroick Jelly.
2.
Although she be a Saint that's
free [p.
162.]
From any such intention,
She may be bold, hang her that's cold,
With a timerous apprehension :
Let danger come, have at her B . . ,
Give me the Girle that stands
to't,
And when it's lanck, does advance her F ... . .,
And lay her helping hand to't.
3.
To make it rise betwixt her t .
. . . . ,
And firk her is a pleasure ;
Though he be stout, he ne'er comes out,
But he wants of his measure :
If he have a ... ., it will be hard
If he half a one produces;
When he's so short you may thank her for't,
O these are gross abuses.
4.
My Mistris she is very free,
And fancies well my temper :
Sweet Rogue, she loves the merry shoves,
And is clear from all
distemper;
When I stand to it, she needs must do it,
For she is compos'd of
pleasure,
And does invite me to delight,
I exhaust my chiefest treasure.
5.
My Mistris she is very free,
And sings and frolicks neatly :
Besides all this, she does nobly kiss
And does her work compleatly,
For which I love her, and none above her,
And she loves me for th' same
too;
But that I fear you'ld soon be there,
I would disclose her name too.
The Souldier. [p. 168.]
Hey ho, have at all,
Fair Lady by your leave,
He that chanceth low to fall,
The higher must he heave;
Nay, faith, good Sir, you are too blame,
'Tis fashion for a Clown,
For he that mounts too high at first,
Is soonest taken down.
I am a Souldier, bonny Lass,
And oft have fought in field,
In Battells oft as fierce as
Mars,
Yet ne'er was forc'd to yield;
A Standard-bearer still am I,
And have broke many a Lance,
I have travell'd Countries far
and nigh,
Yet ne'er was bound for France.
My Weapon it will stifly stand,
And make a cunning thrust.
If I lye open to your hand,
So that you hit me just;
You are no cunning marks-man
sure,
You lie so long at lure :
O thrust, thrust, thrust, far,
far, far, far,
Be sure I will endure.
Fie, fie, your Lance doth bend, [p. 169.]
Full little I account you,
Courageously if you'll not spend,
Sit fast, or I'll dismount you;
Such Cowards fight I do disdain
That can endure no longer,
But see that when you come again
Your Lance it may be stronger.
So so, now I see you have your
tricks by art:
Low, low, not so high,
You make my thighs to smart,
[ . . . . . . . . . . .
. Lost line ]
our mounting high 'twill not
be,
'Twill bring you soon to wrack,
I do not doubt the victory
Though I lie on my back.
A Droll of a Louse. [Part
2nd, p. 33.]
Discoveries of late have been
made by adventures,
And many a pate hath been set on the tenters
To tell many a thing more than true is,
How Whales have been served to Saylors in Brewis :
But here a poor Louse by this present defies
The Catalogue of Old
Mandevils lies,
And take my report for a
certain.
My father & mother, when
first they joyn'd paunches,
Begat me between an Old Pedlers haunches;
When bred to a Creeper, I know now how poxie [? a pox, I]
By chance got a suck of the bloud of his Doxie,
Where finding the sweetness of my new Pastour, [p. 34.]
I left the loyns of my pockified Master,
And thus I grew into a fortune.
A Lord in this Land, that loved
a b . . well,
By chance came to wap with his Mort in the stumell,
I clung me close to him and left my Rampallion,
And scorn'd to converse with a Tatterdemallion,
But thought, by Sir
Giles to procure a portion [? a patent]
For my heirs to inherit clean linnen and Satten,
But the Parliament crost my intention.
This Gallant, God bless him,
delighted in Tennis,
His sweat made me fat till we
travelled to Venice,
Where with a Madona in
single duella
He left me behind him within
the Bordella,
Where lecherous passages I did
discover
Between Bonaroboe [ Bona-roba] and Diego,
her
Lover,
Beyond wonder to hear the report on't.
The trick with the D . . . .was
us'd out of measure,
Behind and before they had it at pleasure;
All
Arretines tricks were practised with labour,
Yet Cunicks [Eunuchs] they hate like
Bethlehem Gabor,
Esteeming the English man for a Stallion,
And leaving the Goat unto the Italian,
All this I repeat for a certain.
One thing in the stews I
commend, I pray hear it,
If a cl . . you do get you need never fear it,
For she, that is troubled come [cum] Gallen Comorboe,
Shall never touch upon your Lute nor Theorboe ;
Yet many a brave Lord, that never wrought Treason,
Have there lost their heads, I know not the reason,
All this I report for a certain.
Thus living in.wonder, escaping
the Tallent [p. 35.]
Of Citizen, Clown, Whore, Lawyer, and Gallant,
At last came a Souldier, I bravely did firk him,
Unto the skirts of his robustious Buff Jerkin,
There liv'd I a while without any harm, I
Was burnt before
Bergen, in Spinola's Army, [? Breda,]
All this I report of a certain.
John and Jone. [II, p. 46.]
If you will give ear,
And hearken a while what I shall tell,
I think I must come near,
Or else you cannot hear me well:
It was a maid, as I heard say,
That in her Masters Chamber lay,
For maidens must it not refuse,
In Yeomens houses they it use
In a truckle-bed to lye,
Or in a bed that stands thereby,
Her Master and her Dame
Would have the maid to do the same.
This Maid she could not sleep
When as she heard the bedstead
crack,
When Captain Standish stout
Made his Dame, cry out, you
hurt my back,
Fye, she said, you do me wrong,
You lye so sore my breast upon.
But you are such another man,
You'd have me do more than I
can;
Fie Master, then quoth honest Joane,
I pray you let my Dame alone;
Fie, quoth she, what a coyl you
keep,
I cannot take no rest nor
sleep.
This was enough to make
A maiden sick and full of pain,
For she did fling and kick,
And swore she'd tear her smock
in twain ;
But now to let you understand, [p. 47.]
They kept a man whose name was
John,
To whom this Maiden went anon,
And unto him she made her moan
:
Tell me John, tell me
the same,
What doth my Master to my Dame
?
Tell me John, and do not
lye,
What ailes my Dame to squeak
and cry ?
Quoth John, your Master
he
Doth give your Dame a steel at night,
And though she find such fault,
It is her only hearts delight :
And you
Jone, for your part,
You would have one with all your heart;
Yes indeed, quoth honest
Jone,
Therefore to thee I make my moan;
But
John, if I may be so bold,
Where is there any to be sold ?
At
London, then quoth honest John,
Next Market day, I'll bring thee one.
What is the price, quoth Jone,
If I should chance to stand in need ?
Why twenty shillings, then quoth
John
For twenty shillings you may speed;
The Maid she went unto her
Chest,
And fetch'd him twenty shillings just:
Here John, quoth she, here is the Coyn,
And prethee have me in thy mind,
And, honest
John, out of my store
I'll give thee two odd shillings more.
To Market then went John,[p. 48.]
When he had the money in his
purse,
He domineer'd and swore,
And was as stout as any horse :
Some he spent in Wine and Beer,
And some in Cakes and other
good cheer,
And some he carried home again
To serve his turn another time;
O
John, quoth she,
thou't welcome home :
God-a-mercy, quoth he, gentle Jone
;
But prethee John, now
let me feel,
Hast thou brought me home a
steel ?
Yes that I have, quoth John,
And then he took her by the hand,
He led her straight into a room
Where she could see nor Sun nor Moon,
The door to him he straight did clap,
He.put the steel into her lap,
And then the Maid began to feel,
Cods foot, quoth she, 'tis a goodly steel:
But tel me,
John, and do not lye,
What make these two things hang here by?
O
Jone, to let thee understand,
They're the two odd shillings
thou putst in my hand.
[If 1 had known so much before,Other version.
I wou'd have giv'n thee two
shillings more.]
Full forty times over. [p. 61.]
FULL forty times over I have
strived to win,
Full forty times over repulsed have been,
But 'tis forty to one but I'll tempt her agen;
For he's a dull Lover
That so will give over,
Since thus runs the sport,
Since thus runs the sport,
Assault her but often, and you
carry the Fort,
Since thus runs the sport,
Assault her but often, and you carry the Fort.
There's a breach ready made,
which still open hath been,
With thousands of thoughts to betray it within,
If you once but approach you are sure to get in,
Then stand not off coldly,
But venter on boldly,
With
weapon in hand,
With weapon in hand,
If you once but approach, she's not able to stand,
With weapon in hand :
If you once but approach, she's not able to stand.
Some Lady-birds when down
before them you sit,
Will think to repulse you with Fire-balls of wit,
But alas they'r but crackers, and seldome do hit;
Then vanquish them after
With alarms of laughter,
Their. Forces being broke,
Their Forces being broke,
And the fire quite out, you may
vanquish in smoak,
Their Forces being broke : [p.
62.]
And the fire quite out, you may
vanquish in smoak.
With pride & with state,
some out-works they make,
And with Volleys of frowns drive the enemy back :
If you mind her discreetly she's easie to take,
Then to it, ne'r fear her,
But boldly come near her,
By working about,
By working about:
If you once but approach, she can ne'r hold it out,
By working about,
If you once but approach, she can ne'r hold it out.
Some Ladies with blushes and
modesty fight,
And with their own fears the rude foe do affright,
But they'r eas'ly surpriz'd if you come in the night:
Then this you must drive at,
To parley in private,
And then they're o'rthrown,
And then they'r o'rthrown,
If you promise them farely,
they'l soon be your own,
And then they'r o'rthrown,
If you promise them fairly, they'l soon be your own.
The Answer.
He is a fond Lover that doateth
on scorn,
Who Fortune's neglects hath patiently born :
He's proud of abuses, if e'r he return
To prove a fond Lover;
His wit he'll discover,
By striving to win
A Fort, where old forces neglected have been.
For when a fort we defend from
the foe, [p.
63.]
We traytors imprison ; they
ne'r come below;
And her fort is defended by answering, No,
If this will not do it,
Disdain added to it,
Your weapon will fall;
Although you approach, you'l not enter at all.
They are Lady-birds sure, these
lovers intend,
Which cannot with wit such a fortress defend,
Whilst
Hectors their squibs & their crackers do spend ;
And vainly come after,
To conquer with laughter :
For she hath no wit,
That spends all her fire in the smoak to be hit.
Where a Fort hath no strength
but such as is made
By pride and by state, such a foe may invade;
For these are defences for those of the trade.
You men are so witty,
Works guard not our City,
But forces within,
With which we rnaintain't, though the out-works you win.
These warriours at last with
our weapons will fight;
And if we are------they'l come
in the night :
But alas they're denied, our
vertues are bright:
For she that loves honour,
No parley ere won her,
To yield up her pow'r,
For a few flatt'ring words and the sport of an hour.
Loves Tenement. [Pt.
II., p. 64.]
IF any one do want a house,
Prince, Duke, Earl, Lord, or Squire,
Or Peasant, hardly worth a louse,
I can fit his desire :
I have a Tenement, the which
I know can fit them all,
'Tis seated near a stinking ditch,
Men call it Cony-hall.
It stands below B . . -Alley,
[beyond bonny ground,]
A foot of b . . . . -hill;
This Tenement is to be ta'n
By whosoever will:
For term of years, for months,
or daies
I'll let this pleasant bower,
Nay, rather than a Tenant want,
I'll let it for an houre.
About it grows a pleasant wood
To shade you from the Sun;
Well watered 'tis, for through
the house
A pleasant stream doth run ;
If hot, you there may cool you,
If cold, you there find heat,
For little it not greatest is, [For gr. it not l. is,]
For least 'tis not too great.
My house, indeed, I must say is
dark,
Be it by night or day,
But if that you be gotten in
You cannot miss the way;
[And when you'r in go boldly
on, [Other version.]
As far as ere you can ;
And if you reach to the house top,
You'll be where ne'er was
man.]
None ever yet within my house [p. 65.]
Did ever weep or wail,
You need not fear the tenure of
it,
For it is held in tayle.
But I must covenant with him
That takes this House of mine,
Hither for years, or else for months,
Or for some shorter time,
That once a day he wash it,
And sweep it round about
And if that he do fail of this,
I'll seek a new Tenant out.
Thus if you like my Tenement,
Your house room shall be good,
Of such a temper as you shall
Need burn neither Cole or wood
:
For be it cold, or be it hot,
To speak I dare be bold,
As long as you keep your nose
within dores
You never shall be a cold.
A New-years Gift. [p. 81.]
Fair Lady, for your New-years
Gift
I send you here a dish of fruit:
The first shall be a Popering Pear,
'Tis all the fruit one tree doth bear;
Rowle it not, the juyce, I doubt,
'Tis so ripe, will all run out;
You must not pare it any whit,
But take it all in at one bit;
If in your mouth a while it lye,
It will melt deliciously.
The next in order doth befall,
Two handful of great rouncefal;
King
Pryapus, that Garden God,
Made Venus eat it in the Cod ;
And since that seed all women sow,
Because it will so quickly grow;
If pretty Bun the stalk devour,
'Twil up again in half an hour;
When once the Bun it doth espy, .
'Twill mop most prettily,
The next in order you shall
have
A large Potato, and a brave :
It must be roasted in the fire [p, 82.]
That
Cupid kindled with
desire,
The roasting it will mickle
cost,
'Twill bast it self when it is
roast;
It needs no sugar, nor no
spice,
'Twill please a Stomack ne'r so
nice;
'Twill make a maid at Midnight
cry,
It comes most pleasantly.
The bravest thing in all this
Land,
You shall have Mars his
holly wand :
A thing that never grew on
tree,
"'Twill t[o]uch and sting
worse than a Bee;
Bend him not, perhaps in time
He may grow up unto his prime;
Correct him not too much at
first,
For if you do, tears forth will
burst;
When Mars came down to
fetch his wand,
It cries, I cannot stand.
The Answer. [p. 116.]
[to
A Song : "She
lay all naked in her bed."]
She lay up to the N . . . .
bare,
As was a willing Lover,
Expecting between hope and fear,
When I would come and c . . . ..
Her hand beneath my waste-band slips,
To grope in busie wise;
Which caus'd a trembling in her Lips,
And a shivering in her Eyes.
The bloud out of her face did
go,
As it on service went,
To second what was gone before,
When all its strength was
spent.
Her Cheeks and lips as Coral red,
Like Roses were full blown :
Which fading streight, the leaves were spread,
And so the ----- comes down.
Her breasts that then both
panting were, [p. 117.]
Such comfort wrought between
us,
That all the world I dare to swear,
Would envy to have seen us.
Her b . . . . and its provender,
For me was kept in store;
Such news to hear, and not to have share,
Would have made a man a W .....
Her 1 ... were girt about my
waste,
My hand under her C......,
As who would say, now break
your fast,
And come again to supper :
Even as the God of War did knock,
As any other man will,
For haste of work, till twelve a Clock,
Kept
Vulcan at his
Anvil.
Mad Wag, quoth she, why dost
thou make
Such haste thy self to rear ?
Dost thou not know that for thy sake,
The Fair lasts all the year ?
Quiet and calm as are loves streams,
I threw my self about her,
But a pox upon true jests and dreams,
I had better have lain without
her.
The Concealment. [p. 151.]
I Loved a maid, she loved not
me,
But that was a maids infirmity;
She wore a Garter above her knee,
But that was a secret bravery;
I plaid with her paps, she gave me some raps :
But what did you else beside ?
Nay, that were a folly, the Fox
is unholy,
And yet he hath grace to hide.
Her feet were little, her
fingers small,
Her hips did wear no Farthingal;
Her body streight, her belly round,
The whale-bone use there was not found ;
I hall'd her, I pull'd her,
kiss'd her, I cull'd her :
But what did you, &c.
I wrung her hands, she wrung
mine again,
God bless such wringing as breeds no pain ;
I look'd on her face, and I gave her [a] dance,
She dimmed my sight with a coloured glance;
I hung on her neck, she gave me a check :
But what did you,
&c.
When each man had danced with
his maid,
Then down behind a tree we staid :.
My knees against her knees I thrust,
She cry'd, sweet heart, let be, and blusht;
But yet at the last I grasped her fast:
But what did you,
&c.
Behind my ear I wear her lock, [p. 152.]
And she my favour next her
smock;
She loves me more, if more you mark,
Since last we tumbled in the dark;
She was so kind-hearted, she wept when we parted,
But what did you,
&c.
But by this kissing and this
feeling
These gentle foes were soon
brought to yielding;
It cost me more in sope and
candle
Than all the Gold that e'r I
did handle,
Though I deny'd it, she could
well hide it :
But what did you else beside ?
Nay, that were a folly, the Fox is unholy,
And yet he hath craft to hide.
[End of Supplement, and of Extra Songs.]