 | YE WARRE-LYKE BALLADE
OF YE
ASTOUNDEDDE
DOCTOR,
BY
PHENIX J. SQUIBOB The Squibob papers |  |
8. YE WARRE-LYKE BALLADE
OF YE
ASTOUNDEDDE
DOCTOR,
BY
PHENIX J. SQUIBOB
72
I.
IT was a fatte younge officer,
Who to a tayloure, came,
Tayloure! I would that thoue should'st make,
The garments that I name;
As quicklye as thoue mayeste
By either hooke or crooke,
And when they are completedde
Then charge them in thye booke.
Who to a tayloure, came,
Tayloure! I would that thoue should'st make,
The garments that I name;
As quicklye as thoue mayeste
By either hooke or crooke,
And when they are completedde
Then charge them in thye booke.
74
II.
ACOATE of brighte blue broadclothe,
With buttons alle of gilte,
A sashe of crimsone net worke,
And a sworde with brazen hilte,
A veste of snowe white dimitye,
And one of the colour of cream,
And a paire of broadclothe breeches,
With a stripe on the outer seame.
With buttons alle of gilte,
A sashe of crimsone net worke,
And a sworde with brazen hilte,
A veste of snowe white dimitye,
And one of the colour of cream,
And a paire of broadclothe breeches,
With a stripe on the outer seame.
76
III.
THEN quickly seizing on his shears,
That tayloure did obey,
And ye garments, called for fashioned he,
In a quainte and curious waye,
In a harde knot he twined hys legges,
And to himself he said,
“I wonder, oh, I wonder,
If ever I'll be paid!”
That tayloure did obey,
And ye garments, called for fashioned he,
In a quainte and curious waye,
In a harde knot he twined hys legges,
And to himself he said,
“I wonder, oh, I wonder,
If ever I'll be paid!”
78
IV.
TO ye Taylours's shop so gallantyle,
Ye officer did come;
He clapped ye coate upon his backe
As ye Tayloure named ye sum.
Then sweetly thanked ye Tayloure,
For making him ye clothes,
And marched off, wagging pleasantlie
Hys fingers on hys nose.
Ye officer did come;
He clapped ye coate upon his backe
As ye Tayloure named ye sum.
Then sweetly thanked ye Tayloure,
For making him ye clothes,
And marched off, wagging pleasantlie
Hys fingers on hys nose.
80
V.
A YEAR soon passed, and all that time,
Ye Tayloure never hearde
From that fatte younge officer, hys pen,
Or otherwise a word;
He layed his shears upon his benche,
Hys goose upon a coate,
And with hys leggs all tangled up
He wrote him off a note.
Ye Tayloure never hearde
From that fatte younge officer, hys pen,
Or otherwise a word;
He layed his shears upon his benche,
Hys goose upon a coate,
And with hys leggs all tangled up
He wrote him off a note.
82
VI.
“HOW now! oh, fatte younge officer!”
Thus the tayloure he did say,
“For your raiment that I furnished,
Do you never mean to pay?
Now quickly send ye moneys
For all that I did make,
Or something awful I will do
To make ye Earthe to quake.”
Thus the tayloure he did say,
“For your raiment that I furnished,
Do you never mean to pay?
Now quickly send ye moneys
For all that I did make,
Or something awful I will do
To make ye Earthe to quake.”
84
VII.
THEN laughed ye fatte younge officer
At ye Tayloure hys queer scrawl,
And though it was annoying
Was not annoyed at all.
No moneys had he, and he told
Ye Tayloure hys sad state,
In a letter which he wrote to him
“All for to irritats.”
At ye Tayloure hys queer scrawl,
And though it was annoying
Was not annoyed at all.
No moneys had he, and he told
Ye Tayloure hys sad state,
In a letter which he wrote to him
“All for to irritats.”
86
VIII.
THEN wrathfulle waxed ye Tayloure,
And quickly he did send
To a high-born ladye who lived neare,
Who was his dearest friend;
And while with rage hys knees they smote,
And countenance turned pale,
He excited all her sympathy
By hys interesting tayle.
And quickly he did send
To a high-born ladye who lived neare,
Who was his dearest friend;
And while with rage hys knees they smote,
And countenance turned pale,
He excited all her sympathy
By hys interesting tayle.
88
IX.
TO her Lord, a learned Doctore,
Ye high-born ladye came;
“Now by my faith and halidome”
She cried, “It is foul shame.”
Then the fat man's audacity
To him she did bewail,
And their tears flowed together o'er
The mournful taylour's tayle.
Ye high-born ladye came;
“Now by my faith and halidome”
She cried, “It is foul shame.”
Then the fat man's audacity
To him she did bewail,
And their tears flowed together o'er
The mournful taylour's tayle.
90
X.
NOW ye Doctor was a wise man,
Of exceeding great renown,
So he got him in hys buggye,
And posted up to town.
To all that officer, hys friends,
He quicklye spread ye news,
How fearfully that fleshy one,
Ye tayloure did abuse.
Of exceeding great renown,
So he got him in hys buggye,
And posted up to town.
To all that officer, hys friends,
He quicklye spread ye news,
How fearfully that fleshy one,
Ye tayloure did abuse.
92
XI.
BUT ye Tayloure got hys moneys,
And then sayed, to be sure
He'd been as Taylours sometimes are,
A little premature.
So he wrote to ye young officer,
And gave hym great applause,
And he sayed he was a gentleman—
He always knowed he was.
And then sayed, to be sure
He'd been as Taylours sometimes are,
A little premature.
So he wrote to ye young officer,
And gave hym great applause,
And he sayed he was a gentleman—
He always knowed he was.
94
XII.
BUT this moved not ye Doctor,
Whose ideas being few,
When that he had got hold of one,
Was bound to put it through.
So in a friendly manner,
He still did circulate
The storye of ye letter,
That was wrote to irritate.
Whose ideas being few,
When that he had got hold of one,
Was bound to put it through.
So in a friendly manner,
He still did circulate
The storye of ye letter,
That was wrote to irritate.
96
XIII.
BUT ye aunt of ye younge officer,
She was a warre-lyke mayde,
And she sharpened up her finger-nayles,
And to his mother sayd,
“It is our determination
Straight to prepare for war;
So up ye guards and at 'em,
We'll fix this old Doctor.”
She was a warre-lyke mayde,
And she sharpened up her finger-nayles,
And to his mother sayd,
“It is our determination
Straight to prepare for war;
So up ye guards and at 'em,
We'll fix this old Doctor.”
98
XIV.
BEHOLD them then, these fearless ones,
Ye mother and ye mayde,
How gallantly against ye foe,
Ye fat one they “arrayed.”
Upon his belt they hung hys sword,
And so they marched him round,
All which warre-lyke preparations
Ye Doctor did “astound.”
Ye mother and ye mayde,
How gallantly against ye foe,
Ye fat one they “arrayed.”
Upon his belt they hung hys sword,
And so they marched him round,
All which warre-lyke preparations
Ye Doctor did “astound.”
100
XV.
YE Doctor was “astoundedde,”
He wrote and told him so,
And sayed “if fyghtynge was their game,
With hym it was no go;
He had bled for hys countrye,
In fact had blystered too,
But with feuds of this description
He would nothing have to do.”
He wrote and told him so,
And sayed “if fyghtynge was their game,
With hym it was no go;
He had bled for hys countrye,
In fact had blystered too,
But with feuds of this description
He would nothing have to do.”
102
XVI.
HERE'S a health to ye, Doctor
Ye Tayloure and hys friend,
And whatsoe'er they undertake
May full success attend.
Goose, syringe, shears and press-board
Doses, draughts and pills,
Cabbage and cathartics,
Scissors, lancet, buckram, Bills.
Ye Tayloure and hys friend,
And whatsoe'er they undertake
May full success attend.
Goose, syringe, shears and press-board
Doses, draughts and pills,
Cabbage and cathartics,
Scissors, lancet, buckram, Bills.
| YE WARRE-LYKE BALLADE
OF YE
ASTOUNDEDDE
DOCTOR,
BY
PHENIX J. SQUIBOB The Squibob papers | |