 | Ram-Alley : or Merrie-Trickes |  |
Actus Quinti.
Scæna 1.
Enter William Small-shanke.W. S.
On this one houre depends my hopes and fortunes,
Foote I must haue this widdow: what should my Dad
Make with a wife, that scarce can wipe his nose,
Vntrusse his points, or hold a Chamber-pot,
Steddy till a pisses: The doores are fast,
'Tis now the midst of night; yet shall this chaine,
Procure accesse and conference with the widdow:
What though I cheate my father, all men haue sinnes,
Though in their seuerall kinds, all ends in this,
So they get gold, they care not whose it is.
Begging the Court, vse beares the Cittie out,
Lawyers their quirkes, thus goes the world about,
So that our villanies haue but different shapes,
Th'effects all one, and poore men are but Apes,
To imitate their betters, this is the difference,
All great mens sinnes must still be humored,
And poore mens vices largely punished,
The priuiledge that great men haue in euill,
Is this, they go vnpunisht to the Diuell
Therefore Ile in, this chaine I know will mooue,
Gold and rich stones, wins coyest ladies loue.
Knocks.
Adr.
What would you sir, that you do knock so boldly.
W. S.
I must come in to the widdow.
Adr.
How come in,
The widdow has no entrance for such mates.
W. S.
Doost heere sweet Chamber-maid, by heauen I come,
With letters from my father, I haue brought her stones,
Iewels and chaines, which she must vse to morrow.
Adr.
Y'are a needy knaue, and will lye:
Your father has casheerd you, nor will a trust you,
Begon, least I doe wash you hence.
W. S.
Doost heere,
By this good night, my Father and I are friends,
Take but this cheine for token, giue her that,
And tell her I haue other things for her,
Which by my fathers will I am commanded
To giue to her owne hands.
Adr.
Say you so,
Introth I thinke youle prooue an honest man,
Had you once got a beard; let me see the cheine,
Doost thinke I lye? by this good light Adrian
I loue her with my soule, heer's letters
And other Iewels sent her from my father,
Is shee a bed.
Adr.
By my virginity,
Shee is vncast, and ready to flip in,
Betwixt the sheetes, but I will beare hir this,
And tell her what you say.
W. S.
But make some hast,
Why so 'twill take, zart how a waiting maide,
Can shake a fellow vp that is casheerd,
And has no money: foote should she keepe the chaine,
And not come downe, I must turne Cittizen,
Be banckrout, and craue the Kings protection
But heere she comes.
Taf.
What would you sir with vs,
That on the suddaine, and so late you come.
W. S.
I haue some secrets to acquaint you with,
Please you to let the chamber maide shake off,
And stand as Centinel.
Taf.
It shall not need,
I hope I haue not brought her vp so ill,
But that she knowes how to containe your secrets,
As well as I her Mistresse: Therefore on.
W. S.
It is not fit forsooth that I should on,
Before she leaue the roome.
Adr.
Tis not indeed.
Therefore Ile waite in the with-drawing roome
Vntill you call.
Taf.
Now sir, what's your will?
W. S,
Deere widdow, pitty the state of a young,
Poore, yet propper Gentleman, by Venus pap
Vpon my knees I'de creepe vnto your lap
For one small drop of fauour, and though this face
Is not the finest face, yet t'as beene praisd
By Ladies of good iudgment in faces.
Taf.
Are these your secrets?
W. S.
You shall haue secrets
More pleasing, nay heere sweet widdow,
Some wantons doe delight to see men creepe,
And on their knees to woe them.
Taf.
I am none of those,
Stand vp, I more desire a man should stand,
Then cringe and creepe that meanes to winne my loue,
I say stand vp, and let me goe ye'ad best.
W. S.
For euer let me creepe vpon the ground,
Vnlesse you heere my sute.
Taf.
How now sir sawce,
Would you be capring in your fathers saddle,
Doe not I know the fashions of you all,
When a poore woman has laide open all
Her thoughts to you, then you grow proud and coy,
But when wise maides dissemble and keepe close,
Then you poore snakes come creeping on your bellyes,
And with all oyled lookes prostrate your selues,
Before our beauties sunne, where once but warme,
Like hatefull snakes you strike vs with your stings,
And then forsake vs, I know your tricks begon.
W. S.
Foote Ile first be hang'd, nay if you go
You shall leaue your smock behinde you widdow,
Keepe close your womanish weapon, hold your tongue,
Nor speake, cough, sneeze or stampe, for if you doe,
By this good blade Ile cut your throte directly,
Peace, stirre not, by Heauen Ile cut your throate
If you but stirre: speake not, stand still, go to,
Ile teach coy widdowes a new way to woe,
Come you shall kisse, why so, Ile stab by Heauen
If you but stirre, now heere, first kisse againe,
Why so, stirre not, Now come I to the point,
My hopes are past, nor can my present state,
Affoord a single halfe-penny, my father
Hates me deadly; to beg, my birth forbids,
To steale, the law, the hang man, and the Rope
With one consent deny; to go a trust,
The Citty common-councell has forbad it,
Therefore my state is desperate, stirre not,
And I by much will rather choose to hang,
Then in a ditch or prison-hole to starue,
Resolue, wed me, and take mee to your bed,
Or by my soule Ile straite cut off your head,
Then kill my selfe, for I had rather dye,
Then in a street liue poore and lowsily:
Doe not I know you cannot loue my father.
A widdow that has knowne the quid of things,
To doate vpon an old and crased man,
That stinkes at both ends, worsse then an elder pype,
Who when his bloud and spirit are at the height,
Hath not a member to his palsie body,
Tooke from the pot halfe sod doe I not know this?
Haue you not wealth enough, to serue vs both?
And am not I a pritty handsome fellow,
To doe your drudgery, come, come, resolue.
For by my bloud, if you deny your bed,
Ile cut your throat, without equiuocation,
If you be pleased hold vp your finger, if not
By heauen Ile gar my whyniard through your weombe,
Ist a match.
Taf.
Here me but speake.
W. S.
Youle prate to loud.
Ta.
No.
W. S.
Nor speake one word against my honest sute.
Ta.
No by my worth
W. S.
Kisse vpon that and speake,
Ta.
I dare not wed, men say yare naught youle cheate.
And you do keepe a whore.
W. S.
That is a lie,
She keepes her selfe and me, yet I protest,
Shees not dishonest.
Ta.
How could she then maintaine you,
W. S.
Why by her commings in, a little thing,
Her friends haue left her which with putting to best vse.
And often turning yeelds her a poore liuing,
But what of that; shes now shooke off, to thee
Ile onely cleaue, Ile be thy marchant.
And to this welthy fayre, Ile bring my ware,
And here set vp my standing: therefore resolue,
Nought but my sword is left ift be a match,
Clap hands, contract and straite to bed,
If not, pray, forgiue and straight goes off your head.
Ta.
I take thy loue.
W. S.
Then straite lets both to bed.
Ta.
Ile wed to morrow.
W. S.
You shall not sleepe vpont.
An honest contract is as good as marriadge.
A bird in hand you know the prouerbe widdow,
Ta.
To let me tell thee, Ile loue thee while I liue,
For this attempt giue me that lusty lad,
That winnes his widdow with his well drawne blade,
And not with oaths and words: a widdows woing,
Not in bare words but should consist in doing,
I take thee to my husband.
W. S.
I thee to wife,
Now to thy bed and there weele end this strife.
Enter Sir Oliuer and Fidlers.
S. O.
Warme bloud the yong mans slaue, the ould mans God
Makes me so stirre thus soone, it stirs ifayth,
To bid my bride boun Iour, O this desire,
Is euen another filtcht promethian fire,
By which we old men liue, performance then,
I thats poore old mens baine, that in old men,
Comes limping off more lame God knowes then he,
Which in a close, a hot and dangerous fight,
Has bin dismembred and craues by letter patents,
Yet scarce a woman that considers this,
Women haue tricks firks and farthinggales,
A generation are they full of subtilty,
And all most honest where they want the meanes.
To be otherwise. Therefore Ile haue an eie
My widdow goes not oft to visit kinsfolkes,
By birth she is a Ninny, and that I know,
Is not in London held the smalest kindred,
I must haue wits and braines, come on my friends,
Out with your tooles, and toot, a strane of mirth.
And a pleasant song to wake the widdow.
Enter W. S. aboue in his shirt.
W. S.
Musitions, mnistrills, foote rogues,
For Gods loue leaue your filthy squeaking noyse
And get you gone, the widdow and my selfe,
Will scamble out the shaking of the sheets,
Without your musicke, we haue no need of fidlers,
To our dauncing, foote haue you no manners,
Cannot a man take his naturall rest.
For your scraping, I shall wash your gut-strings.
If you but stay a while; yet honest rascalls,
If youle let vs haue the tother crash
The widdow and Ile keepe time, theres for your paines,
S. O.
Hows this? will the widdow and you keepe time,
What trycke? what quiddit? what figare is this?
My casheerd Sonne speake from the widdowes chamber,
And in his shirt ha, sure she is not there,
Tis so she has tooke him in for pitty,
And now remoues her chamber I will home,
On with my neatestrobes, perfume my beard,
Eate cloues, Eringoes and drinke some aquauita.
To sweeten breath and keepe my weame from wambling.
Marry the widdow shake vp this spring all,
And then as quiet as a sucking lambe,
Close by the widdow will I rest al night,
As for my breath I haue crotchets and deuises,
Ladies ranke breaths are often healpt with spices.
Enter Adriana, and another strawing hearbs.
Adr.
Come straw a pace, Lord shall I neuer liue,
To walke to Church on flowers. O tis fine,
To see a bride tryp it to Church so lightly,
As if her new choppines would scorne to bruze
A silly flower: and now I prethee tell me,
What flower thinkest thou is likest to a woman?
Vi.
A marigold I thinke.
Adr.
Why a marygold:
Vi.
Because a little heate makes it to spred,
And open wide his leaues.
Adr.
Thart quite wide,
A marigold doth open wide all day,
And shuts most close at night; I hope thou knowst,
All wenches doe the contrary: but sirra,
How does thy Vncle the old Doctor,
Dost thinke heele be a Bishop?
Vi.
O questionlesse,
For has got him a young wife, and carried her,
To Court already: but now I prethee say,
Why will the widdow wedd so old a knight,
Adr.
Why for his riches.
Ui.
For riches onely,
Why riches cannot giue her her delight,
Adr.
Ritches I hope can soone procure her one
Shall giue her her delight thats the Diuell,
Thats it ifaith makes vs waiting gentlewomen
Liue maides so long.
Vi.
Thinke you so.
Adr.
Yes infaith,
Married women quite haue spoyled the market,
By hauing secret friends besides their husbands,
For if these married wiues would be content
To haue but one a peece I thinke in troth,
There would be doings enough for vs all,
And till we get an act of parliament,
For that our states are desperate.
Enter Boucher and Constan.
Come straw a peece.
Con.
So ho ho, Maister.
Bou.
Boy,
Con.
Introth I thought y'ad beene more fast asleepe,
At a sonday euenings Lecture, but sir
Why do you rise so soone?
Bou.
To see the widdow,
Con.
The weaker you, you are forbid a widdow,
And 'tis the first thing you will fall into.
Me thinkes a young cleere skind country Gentlewoman,
That neuer saw Babounes, Lyons, or Courtiers,
Might prooue a handsome wife, or what do you say
To a Cittizens daughter, that neuer was in loue
With a Player, that neuer learnt to daunce,
That neuer dwelt neere any Inne a Court,
Might not she in time prooue an honest wife?
Faith take a maide, and leaue the widdow, Maister
Of all meates I loue not a gaping Oyster,
Bou,
God speed your workes faire maides.
Ad.
You much mistake,
Tis no worke.
Bou.
What then.
Adr.
A preparation
To a worke sir.
Bou.
What worke sweet Ladies?
Adr.
Why to a mariage? thats a worke I thinke,
Bou.
How? a preparation to a mariage,
Of whom kind maids, of whom?
Adr.
And why kind maids?
I hope you haue had no kindnesse at our hand,
To make you say so: but sir vnderstand,
That Sir Oliuer Smal-shanke the noble Knight,
And mistresse Tafata the rich widdow,
Must this day be coupled, conioyned,
Married, espoused, wedded, contracted,
Or as the Puritaine sayes, put together,
And so sir, to the shifting of our cleane smocks,
Wee leaue you.
Bou.
Married, and to day,
Dissention, Iealousie, hate, beggery,
With all the dire euents which breed dislike
In nuptiall beds, attend her bridall steps,
Can vowes and oathes, with such protesting action,
As if their hearts were spit forth with their words,
As if their soules were darted through their eyes,
Be of no more validity with women?
Haue I for her contem'd my fixed fate.
Neglected my faire hopes, and scorn'd the loue
Of beautious, vertuous, and honor'd Constantia.
Con.
Now workes it with my wish: my hopes are full.
And I ingag'd my worth and ventur'd life
On yonder buffolne face, to haue men scorne,
And poynt at my disgrace: first will I leaue to liue:
There take my purse, liue thou to better fate.
Bouch. hangs himselfe.
Better thus die, then liue vnfortunate.
Con.
Aye mee accurst: helpe, helpe, murther murther,
Curst be the day and houre that gaue me breath,
Murther, murther: if any Gentleman
Can heare my plaints, come forth and assist me.
W. S.
What out-cryes call me from my naked bed,
Who calls Ieronimo, speake here I am.
Con.
Good sir leaue your struggling and acting,
And helpe to saue the life of a distressed man,
O helpe if you be Gentlemen!
W. S.
Whats here?
A man hangd vp and all the murtherers gone?
And at my doore to lay the guilt on me.
This place was made to pleasure Cittizens wiues,
Enter Tafata.
And not to hange vppe honest Gentlemen
Taf.
Where be these lazie knaues? some raise the house,
What ment the cry of murther? where's my loue?
W. S.
Come Isabella, helpe me to lament,
For sigthes are stopt, and all my teares are spent.
These clothes I oft haue seene, aye me my friend:
Pursue the murtherers, rayse all the street
Con.
It shall not need, a stirs, giue him breath.
W. S.
Is there yet life, Horatio my deere boy,
Horatio! Horatio, what hast thou mis-done,
To lose thy life when life was new begunne?
Bou.
Zeart a man had as good be hangd outright,
As to indure this clapping: shame to thy sexe,
Perfidious periur'd woman, wher's thy shame?
How can thy modesty forbeare to blush,
And knowst I know thee an adultresse?
Haue not thy vowes made thee my lawfull wife
Before the face of heauen? where is thy shame?
But why speake I of shame to thee, whose face,
Is steel'd with custom'd sinne, whose thoughts want grace:
The custome of thy sinne so luls thy sence:
Women nere blush, though nere so foule th'offence,
A doting stinckerd.
W. Sm.
But hold your tongue,
Or by this light Ile trusse you vp againe,
Zeart rayle on my wife, am I a stinkerd,
Or do I dote? speake such another word,
And vp you trusse againe, am I a stinkerd?
Bou,
The knight your father is:
W. S.
VVhy who denies it.
He supplants thee and I supplanted him.
Come come, you shall be friends come forgiue her:
For by this light there is no remedy,
Vnlesse you will betake you to my leauings.
Con,
Rather then so Ile helpe you to a wife:
Ritch, well borne, and by some accounted fayre,
And for the worth of her Virginity,
I dare presume to pawne my honesty:
VVhat say you to Constantia Somerfield?
W. S.
Do'st know where she is boy?
Con.
I do, nay more,
If he but sweare to imbrace her constant loue,
Ile fetch her to this place.
W. S.
A shall do it boy,
Enter Sir Oliuer and Fiddlers.
A shall do it, goe fetch her boy, foote my father,
Stand too't now old wench, stand too't now.
S. Ol.
Now fresh and youthfull as the month of May,
Ile bid my Bryde good morrow, Musitions on,
Lightly, lightly, and by my knighthoods spurre,
This yeere you shall haue my protection,
And yet not buy your liuery coates your selues:
God morrow Bride, fresh, fresh, as the month of May,
I come to kisse thee on thy wedding day.
W. S.
Sauing your tale sir, Ile shew you how,
Aprill showers spring May flowers,
So merrily singes the Cucko:
The truth is, I haue laide my knife abord,
The widdow sir is wedded.
S. Ol.
Ha,
W. S.
Bedded.
S. Ol.
ha:
W. S.
Why my good father what should you do with a wife?
Would you be crested? will you needs thrust your head
In on of Vulcans Helmets? will you perforce
Weare a Citty cappe and a Court feather?
S. Ol.
Villaine, slaue, thou hast wrong'd my wife.
VV. S.
not so,
Taf.
I finde no fault, and I protest Sir Oliuer.
I'd not haue lost the last two houres sleepe,
I had by him, for all the wealth you haue.
S. Ol.
Villaine slaue, Ile hang thee by the statute,
Thou hast two wiues.
W. S.
Be not so furious sir,
I haue but this, the other was my whore,
Which now is married to an honest Lawyer.
S. Ol.
Thou villaine slaue rhou hast abus'd thy father.
Bou.
Your sonne ifaith, your very sonne ifaith,
The villaine boy has one trick of his sire,
Has firkt away the wench, has pierst the hogshead,
And knowes by this the vintadge.
S. Ol.
I am vndone.
Bou.
You could not loue the widdow but her wealth.
S. Ol.
The deuill take my soule but I did loue her.
Taf,
That oath doth shew you are a Northen Knight,
And of all men aliue, Ile neuer trust,
A Northen man in loue.
S. Ol.
And why? and why slut.
Taf.
Because the first word he speakes is the Diuell
Take his soule, and who will giue him trust,
That once has giuen his soule vnto the Diuell.
W. S.
Shee sayes most true father, the soule once gon,
The best part of a man is gone.
Taf.
And ifaith
If the best part of a man be once gone,
The rest of the body is not worth a rush,
Though it be nere so handsome.
Enter La, Somerfield, Throte & Beard bound, & Iu. Tutch.
La. S.
Bring them away.
W. S.
How now?
My Lawyer pinion'd I begin to stinke
Already.
La. S.
Cheater my daughter.
W. S.
Shee's mad.
Thr.
My wife sir, my wife.
W. S.
They're mad, starke mad,
I am sorry sir you haue lost those happy wits
By which you liu'd so well. The ayre growes cold,
Therefore Ile take my leaue.
La. So.
Stay him officers,
Sir 'tis not your trickes of wit can carry it.
Officers attache him, and this Gentleman,
For stealing away my heire.
W. S.
You do me wrong,
Zart I neuer saw your heire.
Thr.
That's a lye,
You stole her, and by chance I married her.
W. S.
God giue you ioy sir.
Thr.
Aske the Butler else,
Statute or booke case, of Uicesimo
Edwardi Secundi, nor by the Statute
Of Tricesimo Henrici sexti,
Nor by any booke case of decimo
Of the late Queene, am I accessarie,
Part, or party confederate, abetter,
Helper, seconder, perswader, forwarder,
Principall or maintainer of this late theft:
But by law, I forward, and shee willing,
Clapt vp the match, and by a good Statute
Of Decimo tertio Richardi quarti,
She is my leefull lawfull, and my true
Married wife, teste Liftenant Beard.
W. S.
Who liues would thinke that you could prate so fast,
Your hands being bound behind you, foote a talkes
With as much ease as if a were in's shirt.
S. Ol.
I am witnesse thou hadst the heire.
I. Tu.
So am I.
Thr.
And so is my man Dash.
Bou.
Heere me but speake,
Sit you as Iudges, vndoe the Lawyers hands,
That a may freely act, and Ile be bound
That William Smalshanke shall put your Throte to silence,
And ouer-throw him at his owne weapon.
I. Tu.
Agreed, take each his place, and heere the case
Argued betwixt them two.
Om.
Agreed, agreed.
I. Tu.
Now Throte or neuer, stretch your selfe.
Thr.
Feare not
W. S.
Heere stand I for my client, this Gentleman.
Thr.
I for the widdow.
W. S.
Begin.
Thr.
Right worshipfull
I say that William Small-shanke mad-man,
Is by a Statute made in Octauo
Of Richard Cordelion guilty to the law
Of fellony, for stealing this Ladies heire,
That a stole her, the proofe is most pregnant,
He brought her to my house, confest himselfe,
A made great meanes to steale her, I likt her,
(And finding him a nouice) truth to tell,
Married her my selfe, and as I said,
By a Statute Richardi Quarti,
Shee is my lawfull wife.
W. S.
For my client,
I say the wench brought vnto your house,
S. Ol.
What proofe of that
W. S.
This gentleman.
Th.
Tut tut
Hee is a party in the cause, but sir,
If 'twere not the daughter to this good widdow,
Who was it? answer that.
W. S.
An arrant whore
Which you haue married, and she is runne
Away with all your Iewels, this is true:
And this Lieutenant Beard can testifie,
Twas the wench I kept in Hofier-lane.
Bea.
What was it shee?
W. S.
The very same.
I. Tu.
Speake sirra Beard, if all he sayes be true,
Bea.
Shee said, she was a Punke, a Rampant whore,
Which in her time had beene the cause of parting
Some foureteene bawdes; he kept her in the Suburbs,
Yet I do thinke this wench was not the same.
Bou.
The case is cleere with me.
Om.
O strange.
Th.
Sir, sir,
This is not true, how liu'd you in the Suburbs,
And scapt so many searches?
W. S.
I answer,
That most Constables in out-parishes
Are bawdes themselues; by which we scapt the searches.
S. Ol.
This is most strange.
La. S.
What's become of this woman?
Bea.
That know not I. As I was squiring her
A long the streete, Maister Small-shanke set vpon me,
Beate me downe, and tooke away the maide,
Which I suppose was daughter to the widdow.
W. S.
A lyes, let me be hangd if a lye not.
S. Ol.
What confusion is this.
Con.
Bring them forward,
God preserue your worship. And it like you Maddam,
We were commanded by our deputy,
That if we tooke a woman in the watch,
To bring her straight to you. And heering there
You were come hether, hether we brought them.
S. Ol.
The one is my sonne, I doe acknowledge him,
What woman's that.
T. S.
The widdowes daughter sir,
W. S.
Bloud is he guld to.
T. S.
My brother stole her first,
Throte coozend him, and I had coozned Throte,
Had not the Constable tooke vs in the watch,
Shee is the widdowes daughter, had I had luck,
Thr.
And my espoused wife.
La. S.
Vnmaske her face,
My daughter I defie her.
W. S.
Your worships wife,
I am guld and abus'd, and by a Statute
Of Triceffimo of the late Queene,
I will Star-chamber you all for coosonage,
And be by law diuorst.
W. S.
Sir twill not hold,
Shee's your leefull, lawfull, and true wedded wife,
Teste Lieftenant Beard.
Bea.
Wast you that brake my head?
W. S.
But why shouldst thinke much to dye a Cuckold,
Being borne a Knaue? as good Lawyers as you
Scorne not hornes.
Thr.
I am guld, aye me accurst!
Why should the harmlesse man be vext with hornes,
When women most deserue them?
W. S.
Ile shew you sir,
The husband is the wiues head, and I pray
Where should the hornes stand but vpon the head:
Why wert not thou begot (thou foolish knaue)
By a poore Sumner, on a Sergiants widdow?
Wert not thou a Puritane, and put in trust
To gather releefe for the distressed Geneua,
And didst not thou leaue thy poore bretheren,
And runne away with all the money, speake,
Was not that thy first rising? go,
Y'are well coupled by Ioue yee are, she is
But a yonger sister newly come to towne,
Shee's currant mettle, not a penny the worse
For a little vse, whole within the Ring,
By my soule.
Bea.
Will a take her thinkst thou?
Bou.
Yes faith, vpon her promise of amendment.
I. Tut.
The Lawyer is gold.
Thr.
Am I thus ouer-reach'd, to haue a wife,
And not of the best neither?
Fra.
Good sir be content,
A Lawyer should make all things right and straight,
All lyes but in the handling, I may prooue
A wife that shall deserue your best of loue.
S. Ol.
Take her Throte, you haue a better iewell now
Then euer, kisse her, kisse her man, all friends.
La. S:
Yet in this happy close, I still haue lost
My onely daughter.
W. S.
Wher's thy Page Boutcher?
Con.
Here I present the Page: and that all doubts,
May heere be cleerd, heere in my propper shape,
That all your ioyes may bee compleat and full,
I must make one, with pardon gentle mother,
Here will I choose a husband: this be the man,
Whom since I left your house in shape of Page,
I still haue followed.
W. S.
Foot would I had knowne so much,
I would haue beene bold to haue laine with your page.
Con.
Say am I welcome.
Bou.
As is my life and soule,
La. S.
Heauen giue you ioy,
Since all so well succeeds, take my consent,
W. S.
Then are we all pair'd, I and my lasse,
You and your wife, the lawyer and his wench,
And father fall you aborde of the widdow,
But then my brother.
T. S.
Faith I am a foole.
W. S.
Thats all one; If God had not made
Some elder-brothers fooles, how should witty
Yonger brothers be maintain'd,
Strike vp Musick, lets haue an old song,
Since all my tricks haue found so good successe,
Weele sing, dance, dice, and drinke downe heauinesse.
FINIS.
| Ram-Alley : or Merrie-Trickes | |