TOBY

He is very merry Madam M. Wildbraine, has him in hand, ith' bottom o'th Seller He sighs and tipples. We may thank your dry chaps for't, the Canaries gone too No substance for a sorrowful mind to work upon, I cannot mourn in beer, if she should walk now As discontented spirits are wont to do. A fortification of March Beer will do well, I must confess 'tis a most mighty Armour, For I presume I cannot pray. We Coachmen have such tumbling faiths, no prayers Can go and even pace. Verily Nurse, I have cried so much For my young Mistress, that is mortified, That if I have not more sack to support me, I shall even sleep, heigho, for another flagon; These burials and Christenings are the mournefulst matters, And they ask more drink. Mine ever sad, for I am ever dry Nurse. There may be one near it. Would I had a ladder to behold it, Mercy upon me, the Ghost of one oth' Guard sure, 'Tis the Devil by his claws, he smells of Brimstone, Sure he farts fire, what and earthquake I have in me; Out with thy prayer book Nurse. Who's that. I feel his talents through me 'Tis and old haggard devil, what will he do with me? A lecherous Devil. If I should have a young Satan by him, for I dare not de nigh him, In what case were I? who durst deliver me? Sweet Devil be good to me. Some Jew, some Justice, A thousand heathen smells to say truth Madam, And would you mellow my young pretty Mistress In such a misken? So had I Madam, simply though I stand here, I had been ravished too: I had twenty Spirits In every corner of the house a Fiend met me. And shall we partly with dry lips; Shall we that have been fellow devils together Flench for and old woman's fart? Shall we never ring again? never toss the tenor, And roll the changes in a Cup of Claret? You shall not want what ere I lay my hands on, As I am sure Automedon the Coachman, Shall be distributed; bear up, I say, hang sorrow, Give me that bird abroad that lives at pleasure, Same the Butlers true, the Cook a reverend Trojan, The Faulkner shall fell his Hawks, and swear they were rotten, There be some wandering spoons, that may be met with, I'll pawn a Coach horse, peace, utter no sentences. The harness shall be used in our wars also; Or shall I drive her (tell me but your will now, Say but the word) over some rotten bridge, Or by a Marl pit side, she may slip in daintily, Let me alone for my self. Sweet Master Wildbraine. Take a lodging with me to night in the Stable, And ride away to morrow with one of the horses Next your heart, pray do. He is not up yet Madam, what meant you To come forth so early? They said they would follow us. Let him be hanged fort, You have my voice. Do, and I'll help him; And if he were here this whip should conjure him, Here's a capias, and it catch hold on's breech, Idem make him soon believe the devil were there. He married the money, thats all he looked for, For your daughter, let her sink or swim. They'le come, Fear not Madam, and bring Clappers with they, Or some have lost their old wont, I have herd No disparagement to your Ladyship, some o'their tongues Like Tom a Lincoln three miles off. What and we lost no time, You and I shall make a shift to begin with him, And tune our Instruments, till the Comfort come To make up the full noise, I'll knock. 'Tis I, Toby, come down, or else we'll fetch you down, Alas, this is but the Sauncebell, here's a Gentlewoman Will ring you another peal, come down, I say. Jew's too good for him. O Reprobate! A worshipful ropes end is to good for him. Come and be whipped first. I am glad you're come, wele blow the house down. A charitable motion, fire is comfortable. Bury him alive by all means for a testimony. That might would been my case last night, I'll have't what ere it cost me. I will have taht too; There wasan Aunt of mine, I think amongst e'm, I would be glad to hear her Testament. Nor I, they walked me the fools morris. With a small print, that no body can read it. Sweet Mr. Wildbraine, — I am glad I would met weyee. Your Ant's a mortal, and thinks not on you For ought I can perceive. Neither, and yet we do not hear That she's buried. What should make me glad? have I not cause, To see your Princely body well, and walk thus, Look blithe and bonny, and your wardrobe whole still. O delicate Bells'. Say no more. If I fail hang me i'th bell-ropes. She's up to'th ears in Law; I do so whirl her to the Counsellors chambers, And back again, and bounce her for more money, And too again, I know not what they do with her, But she's the merriest thing among these Lawdrivers; And in their studies half a day together; If they do get her with Magnam Chartam, she swears, By all the ability of her old body, She will so claw the Justice, she will fell The tiles of the house she vows, and sack out o'th cellar (That she worships to Idolatry) but she'll hang him. A Mistress. Command, I'll carry you both in pomp; And let my Lady go a foot a Law-catching, And exercise her corns: where is she Master John? Shall we ring for her? Drink stiffly for five hours. To night? we will would twenty torches then, And through the streets drive on triumphantly; Triumphantly weel drive, by my Ladies door, As I am a Christian Coachman, I will rattle you And urine in her Porch, and she shall fear me: If you say more, I shall run mad outright, I will drink sack and surfeit instantly; I know not where I am now. Be Judged by the Sexton then, If I have ears. Carman, your gallon of wine, you ring most impiously, Art thou of the worshipful company of the knights oth' West, And handle a bell with no more dexterity; You think you are in Thames street Justling the carts: o a clean hands a jewel. you are welcome. He may have more on't, Handle a bell, as you were haling timber; Gross, gross, and base, absurd. Has wone, has wone, the Ear's our only instrument: Put all the lights out, to what end serve our Eyes then, Possible, thou art a child, I'll ring when I am dead drunk; Out with the lights, no twinkling of a candle, I know my rope to, as I know my nose, And can bang it soundly ith' dark, I warrant you. Fie, how I sweat? Reach me my cloak to cover me, I run to oil Like a Propise; 'twas a brave peal. Carman, you came in close now. Walk further, was that a pillar? 'tis harder than my nose. Where's the Boy promised us five pound? Is thy candle blind too, give me the bottle, I can drink Like a Fish now, Like and Elephant. Is't come to a cuff? my whole suit turned to a button? My new clothes vanished? Not one of my dragons wings left to adorn me Have I muted all my feathers? The cold, the cold I cry, and I cry truly, Not one sleeve, nor a cape of a cloak to warm me. We had even best, gentlemen, Every man choose his rope again, and fasten it, And take a short turn to a better fortune To be bawds to our Misery's, and put our own lights out? Fellows in affliction, lets take hands all, Now are we fit for tumblers. Buy a mat for a bed, buy a mat; Would I were at rack and manger among my horses; We have divided the Sextons Household stuff amongst us, one has the rug, and he's Turned Irish, another has a blanket, and he must beg in't, The sheets serve another for a frock, and with the bed-cord, He may pass for a Porter, nothing but the mat would fallen To my share, which with the help of a tune and a hassock Out oth' Church may disguise me till I get home; A pox a bell-ringing by the Ear, if any man take me At it again, let him pull mine to the Pillory, I could wish I had lost mine Ears, so I had my clothes again; The weather w'onot allow this fashion, I do look for and ague beside. Here are company: Buy a mat for a bed, but a mat, A hassock for your feet, or a Piss clean and sweet; Buy a mat for a bed, by a ma: Ringing, I renounce thee, I'll never come to Church more. I am called. If any one should offer to buy my mat, what a case were I in? O that I were in my oat tub with a horse-loaf, Something to hearten me: I dare not hear they; Buy a mat for a bed, buy a mat: I am glad I am: buy a mat for a bed. If ever I meet at midnight more a jangling: I am cold, and yet I drop; buy a mat for a bed buy a mat. Yes Madam and a bell Hung under it artificially. A little warning That we may know when to begin our healths Madam, The Justice is a kind of old Jade Madam, That will go merriest with a bell. This is a day of Jubilee. What sense have we with single beer against her? What heart can we defy the devil with? J have no power to pray, it grows still longer, 'Tis Steeple high now, and it sails away Nurse, Lets call the Butler up, for he speaks Latin, And that will daunt the Devil: I am blasted, My bellies grown to nothing. How my haunches quake? is the thing here still Now can I outdo any Button maker, at his ownetrade, I have fifteen fits of and Ague, Nurse, 'tis gone I hope The hard hearted woman has left me alone. Nurse — And she knows too I would but a lean Conscience to keep me company. The Devils among em in the parlour sure, The Ghost three stories high, he has the Nurse sure, He is boiling of her bones now, hark how she whistles: There's gentlewomen within too, how will they do? I'll to the Cook, for he was drunk last night, And now he is valiant, he's a kin toth' Devil too And fears no fire, I can find no bed, no body, nor no chamber, Sure they are all ith' cellar, and I cannot find that neither, I am led up, and down Like a tame ass, my light's out And I grope up and down Like blindman buff And break my face, and break my pate. I hear one whisper If it be the devil now to allure me into his clutches, For Devils have a kind of tone Like crickets, I have a glimpse of her guise, 'tis she would steal by me, But I'll stand sure. I have but a dram of wit left, And thats even ready to run, o for my bed now.