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"And first, when thou seest me here in this stead,

With my crown of golde so fair on my head,
Among all my liege-men so noble of birthe,
Tell me to one penny what I am worth."

"For thirty pence our Saviour was sold

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Amonge the false Jewes, as I have bin told:

And twenty-nine is the worth of thee,

For I thinke thou art one penny worser than hee."

The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel,2

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"I did not think I had been worth so littel!

-Now secondly tell mee, without any doubt,

How soone I may ride this whole world about."

"You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same Until the next morning he riseth againe;

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And then your grace need not make any doubt

But in twenty-four hours you'll ride it about."

The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone,

"I did not think it could be gone so soone!

-Now from the third question thou must not shrinke, 95 But tell me here truly what I do thinke."

“Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry; You thinke I'm the Abbot of Canterbury;

But I'm his poor shepheard, as plain you may see,

That am come to beg pardon for him and for mee.'

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The king he laughed, and swore by the masse,
"Ile make thee lord abbot this day in his place !”
"Now naye, my liege, be not in such speede,
For alacke I can neither write ne reade."

"Four nobles a weeke, then, I will give thee,
For this merry jest thou hast showne unto mee;
And tell the old abbot when thou comest home,
Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John."

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VOL. II.

2 Meaning probably St. Botolph.

VII.

You Meaner Beauties.

This little sonnet was written by Sir Henry Wotton, Knight, on that amiable princess, Elizabeth, daughter of James I. and wife of the Elector Palatine, who was chosen King of Bohemia, Sep. 5, 1619. The consequences of this fatal election are well known: Sir Henry Wotton, who in that and the following year was employed in several embassies in Germany on behalf of this unfortunate lady, seems to have had an uncommon attachment to her merit and fortunes, for he gave away a jewel worth a thousand pounds, that was presented to him by the emperor, because it came from an enemy to his royal mistress the Queen of Bohemia."-See Biogr. Britan.

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This song is printed from the Reliquiæ Wottonianæ 1651, with some corrections from an old MS. copy.

You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly satisfie our eies

More by your number than your light,

You common-people of the skies,

What are you when the moon shall rise?

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Ye violets that first appeare,

By your pure purple mantles known,
Like the proud virgins of the yeare,
As if the Spring were all your own,
What are you when the rose is blown ?

Ye curious chaunters of the wood,
That warble forth dame Nature's layes,
Thinking your passions understood

By your weak accents, what's your praise
When Philomell her voyce shall raise ?

So when my mistris shal be seene

In sweetnesse of her looks and minde,
By virtue first, then choyce, a queen,
Tell me, if she was not design'd

Th' eclypse and glory of her kind?

1C

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VIII.

The Old and Young Courtier.

This excellent old song, the subject of which is a comparison between the manners of the old gentry, as still subsisting in the times of Elizabeth, and the modern refinements affected by their sons in the reigns of her successors, is given, with corrections, from an ancient black-letter copy in the Pepys Collection, compared with another printed among some miscellaneous " poems and songs" in a book entitled Le Prince d'Amour, 1660, 8vo.

An old song made by an aged old pate,

Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a greate estate,
That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,
And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate
Like an old courtier of the queen's,

And the queen's old courtier.

With an old lady, whose anger one word asswages,
They every quarter paid their old servants their wages,
And never knew what belong'd to coachmen, footmen, nor
pages,

But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges;
Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old study fill'd full of learned old books,

With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by his looks;

With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks,

And an old kitchen, that maintain'd half a dozen old cooks; Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old hall hung about with pikes, guns and bows, With old swords and bucklers that had borne many shrewde

blows,

And an old frize coat to cover his worship's trunk hose,

And a cup of old sherry to comfort his copper nose;

Like an old courtier, &c.

With a good old fashion, when Christmasse was come,
To call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum,
With good chear enough to furnish every old room,

And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and man dumb
Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old falconer, huntsman, and a kennel of hounds,
That never hawked nor hunted but in his own grounds,
Who, like a wise man, kept himself within his own bounds,
And when he dyed gave every child a thousand good
pounds;

Like an old courtier, &c.

But to his eldest son his house and land he assign'd,
Charging him in his will to keep the old bountifull mind,
To be good to his old tenants, and to his neighbours be
kind:

But in the ensuing ditty you shall hear how he was inclin'd ;
Like a young courtier of the king's,

And the king's young courtier.

Like a flourishing young gallant, newly come to his land,
Who keeps a brace of painted madams at his command,
And takes up a thousand pound upon his father's land,
And gets drunk in a tavern, till he can neither go nor
stand;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new-fangled lady that is dainty, nice and spare,
Who never knew what belong'd to good housekeeping or

care,

Who buyes gaudy-color'd fans to play with wanton air, And seven or eight different dressings of other womens hair;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new-fashion'd hall, built where the old one stood,
Hung round with new pictures that do the poor no good,

With a fine marble chimney wherein burns neither coal nor wood, And a new smooth shovelboard whereon no victuals ne'er stood;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new study, stuft full of pamphlets and plays,
And a new chaplain that swears faster than he prays,

With a new buttery hatch that opens once in four or five days,

And a new French cook to devise fine kickshaws and toys; Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new fashion when Christmas is drawing on,

On a new journey to London straight we all must begone, And leave none to keep house but our new porter John, Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new gentleman-usher, whose carriage is compleat, With a new coachman, footman and pages to carry up the meat,

With a waiting-gentlewoman, whose dressing is very neat, Who, when her lady has din'd, lets the servants not eat;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With new titles of honour bought with his father's old gold,
For which sundry of his ancestors old manors are sold:
And this is the course most of our new gallants hold,
Which makes that good house-keeping is now grown so cold,
Among the young courtiers of the king,
Or the king's young courtiers.

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