Part 9 (1/2)

FINIS.

Printed at London for F. Coules.

The following ballad was published in ”Playford's Select Ayres,” 1659, p.

95; with music by Dr. John Wilson, and Musical Companion, 1673. It is in the Percy Folio MS., iii., 308-11. Also in ”Windsor Drollery,” 2; and ”Le Prince d'Amour,” 1660, p. 177. It is attributed to Shakespeare, but with only ma.n.u.script evidence.

”THE SONG OF THE PEDLARS.

”From the fair Lavinian sh.o.r.e, I your markets come to store.

Muse not though so far I dwell And my wares come here to sell: Such is the insatiate thirst after gold, Then come to my pack While I cry, what d'ye lack, What d'ye buy? for here it is to be sold.

”Courteous Sir, I've wares for you, Garters red and stockings blue, Dainty gaudes for Sunday gear, Beads and laces for your dear, First let me have but a touch of your gold Then come--Not a swain, Half so neat, On the plain Shall we meet So comely to behold.

”Madam, come, here you may find Rings with posies to your mind, Silken bands for true-love-knot, And complexion I have got.

First let me have but a touch of your gold, Then come--To your face, I'll restore Every grace Though you're more Than three score and ten years old.

”Gentles all, now fare you well, I must trudge my wares to sell; Lads so blythe and Dames so young, Drop a guerdon for my song.

Just let me have but a touch of your gold, I'll come with my pack Again to cry, What d'ye lack, What d'ye buy?

For here it is to be sold.”

Mr. John Payne Collier, in his ”_A Book of Roxburghe Ballads_,” London, 1847, reproduces a capital ditty; ”ryhte merrie and very excellent in its way,” relating to the popular pursuits and the customs of London and the Londoners in the early part of the seventeenth century. It is printed _verbatim_ from a broadside, signed W. Turner, and called:--

”The Common Cries of London Town, Some go up street and some go down.

With Turner's Dish of Stuff, or a Gallymaufery

To the tune of _Wotton Towns End_.[6] Printed for F. C[oles,] T.

V[ere,] and W. G[ilbertson.] 1662.”

The only known copy is dated 1662, but contains internal evidence, in the following stanza (which occurs in the opening of The Second Part,) that it was written in the reign of James I.

”That's the fat foole of the Curtin: And the lean fool of the Bull: Since _Shancke_ did leave to sing his rimes, He is counted but a gull.

”The players on the Bankside, The round Globe and the Swan, Will teach you idle tricks of love, But the Bull will play the man.”

_Shancke._--John Shancke the comic actor here mentioned was celebrated for singing rhymes, and what were technically ”jigs” on the stage. In this respect, as a low comedian he had been the legitimate successor of Tarlton, Kempe, Phillips, and Singer. He was on the stage from 1603 to 1635, when he died. Then, John Taylor the _Water Poet_, no mean authority, informs us that the Swan Theatre, on the Bankside, in the Liberty of Paris Gardens, had been abandoned by the players in 1613. The Curtain Theatre in Holywell street--or Halliwell street, as it was usually spelt at that time--Sh.o.r.editch Fields[7] had also fallen into disuse before the reign of Charles I. The Globe on the Bankside, and the [Red] Bull Theatre at the upper end of St. John's street, Clerkenwell were employed until after the restoration. The allusion to the Waterman carrying ”bonny la.s.ses over to the plays,” is also a curious note of time. With these matters before us, we may safely conclude that ”Turner's Dish of Stuff” is but a reprint of an earlier production. As we find it, so we lay it before our readers: thus:--

”THE COMMON CRIES OF LONDON TOWN: SOME GO UP STREET, SOME GO DOWN.

With Turner's Dish of Stuff, or a Gallymaufery.

_To the tune_ of Wotton Towns End.”

[Ill.u.s.tration]

”My masters all, attend you, if mirth you love to heare, And I will tell you what they cry in London all the yeare.

Ile please you if I can, I will not be too long: I pray you all attend awhile, and listen to my song.

”The fish-wife first begins, Anye muscles lilly white!

Herrings, sprats or plaice, or c.o.c.kles for delight.

Anye welflet oysters!

Then she doth change her note: She had need to have her tongue be greas'd, for the rattles in the throat.