University of Virginia Library


105

BALLADS


107

A BALLAD

[As close as a Goose]

As close as a Goose
Sate the Parlament house
To hatch this Royal Gul;
After much Fiddle-Faddle,
The Eg prov'd adle,
And Oliver came forth Nol.
Yet old Queen Madge,
Though things do not Fadge,
Wil serve to be Queen of a May-pole;
Two Princes of Wales,
For Whitsun-Ales,
And her Grace Mayd-Marrian Claypool.
In a Robe of Cow-hide
Sat yesty Pride,
With his Dagger and his slinge;
H' was the pertinentst Pere
Of al that were there,
T' advise with such a King.
A great Philosopher
Had a Goose for his Lover,
That followd him day and night:
If it be a True Story
Or but an Allegory,
It may be both ways right.
Strickland and his Son,
Both cast into one,
Were meant for a Single Baron;
But when they came to sit,
There was not wit
Enough in them both, to serve for [one].

108

Wherfore 'twas thought good
To ad Honeywood;
But when they came to trya[l,]
Each one prov'd a Fool,
Yet three Knaves in the whole,
And that made up a Pere-royal.

109

A BALLAD

[Draw neare, good People, al draw neare]

PART I

Draw neare, good People, al draw neare,
And hearken to my Ditty;
A stranger Thing
Then this I sing
Came never to this City.
Had you but seen this monster,
You would not give a Farthing
For the Lyons in th' Grate,
Nor the Mountaine Cat,
Nor the Bears in Paris-Garden.
You would defy the Pageants
Are born before the Mayor;
The strangest shape,
You ere did Gape
Upon in Bartlemew-fayr!
His Face is round and decent,
As is your Dish or Platter,
On which there grow's
A thing like a Nose,
But, indeed, it is no such matter.
On both sides of th' aforesayd
Are eies, but th' are not matches,
Ore which there are
To be seen two fayr
And large, wel-grown Mustaches.
Now this with admiration
Dos al beholders strike,
That a Beard should grow
Upon a Things Brow,
Did ye ever see the like?

110

He has no Scul, 'tis well known
To thousands of beholders;
Nothing, but a Skin,
Dos keep his braines in
From Running about his shoulders.
On both sides of his Noddle
Are straps o' th' very same lether;
Ears are imply'd
But th' are mere hide
Or morsels of Tripe, chuse ye whether.
Between these two extendeth
A slit from eare to eare
That, evry howr,
Do's gape to devour
The Sowce that grows so neare.
Beneath, a Tuft of Bristles
As rough as a Frees-Jerkin;
If it had been a Beard,
'Twould have serv'd a heard
Of Goats, that are of his neare kin.
Within, a Set of Grinders
Most sharp and keen, Corroding
Your Ir'n and bras
As easy as,
That you would do a Pudding.
But the strangest thing of al is,
Upon his Rump there groweth
A great long Tayl,
That useth to Trayle
Upon the Ground, as he goeth.

PART II

This monster was begotten
Upon one of the witches,
B' an Imp that came to her,
Like a Man, to woo her,
With black Dublet and breeches.

111

When he was whelpd, for certaine,
In divers sevral Cuntrys,
The Hogs and swine
Did grunt and whine,
And the Ravens Croakd upon Trees.
The windes did blow, the Thunder
And lightning lowdly rumbled;
The Dogs did howl,
The hollow Tree in th' Owl—
'Tis a good hors that nere stumbled.
As soon as he was brought forth,
At th' midwife's Throat he flew,
And threw the Pap
Down in her Lap;
They say 'tis very true.
And up the wals he clamberd,
With Nayles most sharp and keen,
The Prints whereof,
I' th' Bords and the Roofe,
Are yet for to be seen.
And out at the Top o' th' Chimny
He vanishd, seen of none;
For they did winke,
Yet by the Stinke
Knew which way he was gone.
The Country round about there
Became like to a wilder-
ness; for the sight
Of him did fright
Away men, women, and children.
Long did he there Continue,
And al those Parts much harmed,
Til a wise-woman, which
Some cal a white witch,
Him into a Hogsty charmed.

112

There when she had him shut fast,
With brimstone and with Niter
She singd the Claws
Of his left Paws,
With the tip of his Tayl, and his right eare.
And with her Charmes and Oyntments
She made him Tame as a Spaniel;
For she usd to ride
On his back astride,
Nor did he do her any il.
But, to the admiration
Of al both far and neare,
He hath been shown
In evry Town,
A[nd] eke in evry Shere.
And now, at length, he's brought
Unto fayr London Citty,
Where, in Fleetstreet,
All those may see't,
That wil not believe my ditty.
God save the king, and Parlament,
And eke the Princes highness;
And quickly send
The wars an end,
As here my Song has
Finis.