The Rimers nevv Trimming.
To the tune of, In Sommer time.
A Rimer of late in a Barbors shop,
sate by for a trimming, to take his lot:
Being minded with mirth vntill his turne came,
to driue away the time, he thus began.
You barbarous Shauers that nimbly trim
with Sissors & Rasor, and handling the Combe:
Your rubbing, your brushing, your Ball, & Bason,
displayes your fining of each one in fashion.
You are no Pillers, but poulers i'th state,
and still are shauing for what you can scrape:
By excrementall Fees you purchase Pelfe,
and wash from others; but keepe to your selfe.
Your abusiue Balles you clap in our eyes,
making vs wincke whilst you make vp your prize
With bobbing our Lips, & pullings by the Nose,
and after to slap vs i'th mouth with your Cloths.
With your Liquor so hot, you often doe scald,
& oft to your hands comes Crowns that are bald:
The more that you clip them, the thinner they are,
and tis for your profit they loose their Hayre.
You frizzell, you currell your long Haire & Locks
turns vp their Moutchatos, snifled with Pox:
Rub them with Musk-ball, & sprinkle Rose-water
the snap of your Finger then followes after.
Your pulling out Teeth, or stopping the hollow,
your skill to cease paine, being but shallow,
Making shew of a cure with a Masticke plaister,
they frō your chaire rising, a leg they scrape after
Hauing thus passed their time in prating,
the Chaire became empty, he his turne taking:
To be trimmed, into what fashion or cut
(quoth the Barbor) will it please you to be put?
Good friend (quoth hee) I would be knowne,
for knowledge is my liuing, now let be showne:
Thy cunning in shauing so of my Face,
that a blush may not stayne it to my disgrace.
For such company I come in that will try,
it they can stayne it with Vermilion die:
Or dash me out of countenance by action:
wherefore put me in the most shameles fashion.
Feare it not then good sir, (quoth the Barbor:)
Boy giue me hither a Ball that will larther,
And pound those precious gums so dusty;
poynting to small Coale in a Pan all rusty.
The Boy straight about his businesse hies.
Now sir, saies the Barbor, keepe close your eyes
For this Ball will prooue somewhat tart,
and twill disquiet you much to feele them smart.
Quickly Boy, bring my varnishing Ball.
Heere sir, and giues him the Coales beaten small
Which ouer his Face he dusteth full thicke,
and rubs him with Sope, the better to sticke.
Being about his busines: sir (quoth the Barbor,)
this Ball doth well scowre, and ease my labor:
And though here needes no drying with Cloaths,
yet I must be familiar to pull you by the Nose.
Hauing done his exployt, made a great smoake,
and vnder the Chayre set; being ready to choake:
The Rimer vp rose, and foorth of doores flung,
they snatching off the Clothes on him that hung.
And being gon out bedawbed and smeared,
the people shouted, Boyes on him stared:
He wondring at their laughing, thought his fauour
was very pleasing, that mooued such laughter.
And seeing the Smoake ceased, went backe againe,
with troupes following at his heeles amaine:
The dore was shut, but at the Window a Glasse
was set of purpose to shew him his Face.
Which hee perceiuing, did sweare and raue,
quo'th Barbor, you are trimd like a riming knaue
Your quality is awdacious and base:
now you hauing got a Vizard for your Face.
Where next you are trimde, be not too bold,
with scalding, and scraping; now your are pould:
Least they noch your noddle, & spoyle your riming:
and so much good doe you with your trimming.
FINIS.
Imprinted at London for T. Langley.
A pleasant Song, made by a Souldier, whose bringing vp had bin dainty, [...]nd partly fed by those affections of his vnbridled youth, is now beaten with his owne rod, and therefore tearmeth this his repentance, the fall of his folly.
To the tune of Calino.
IN Summer time when
Phoebus rayes,
Did chéere each mortall mans delight,
Increasing of the chearefull dayes,
and cutting off the darkesome night.
When Nature brought forth euery thing,
By iust returne of
April showers:
To make the pleasant branches spring,
of sundry sorts of hearbs and flowers.
It was my chance to walke abroad.
To view Dame Natures newcome breed:
The pretty Birds did lay on load,
with sugred tunes in euery wood.
The gallant Nightingale did set,
Her speckled brest against a Bryer,
Whose wofull tunes bewayles as yet,
her brother
Tereus foule desire.
The Serpents hauing cast their coates,
Lay listning how the Birds did sing:
The pretty birds with sugred notes,
did welcome in the pleasant Spring:
I drew me to the Gréenewood side,
To heare this countrey harmony,
Whereas ere long I had espide,
a wofull man in misery.
He lay along vpon the ground,
And to the heauens he cast his eye:
The bordering hils and dales resound,
the Ecchoes of his pittious cry.
He wailing sore, and sighing, said,
O heauen, what endlesse griefe haue I?
Why are my sorrowes thus delaid?
come therefore death and let me dye.
When Nature first had made my frame,
And let me loose when she had done:
Steps Fortune in that fickle Dame,
to end what Nature had begun,
She set me soft vpon her knée,
And blast my tender age with store;
But in the end she did agrée,
to marre what she had done before.
I could no sooner créepe alone,
But she forsooke her fostred child,
I had no land to liue vpon.
but
[...]c'd abroad the world so wild.
At length I fell in company,
With gallant youths of
Mars his traine,
I spent my life in ieoperdy,
and got my labour for my paine.
I wat
[...]d on the sieged walles,
In thunder, lightning, raine, and snow,
And oft in shot of powdred halls,
whose costly markes are yet to show,
When all my kindred tooke their rest,
At home in many a slately bed:
The ground and pauement was my nest,
my Flaske a pillow for my head.
My meate was such as I could finde,
As Rootes and Hearbes of sundry sorts:
Which did content my hungry mind,
although my commons were but short,
My powder serued to salt my meate,
My murren for a gilden cup,
Wherein such drinke as I could get,
in sprin
[...]
[...]r ditch, I dranke it vp.
My Rapier alwaies by my side.
My péece lay charg'd with match alight,
Thus many a month I did abide,
to ward all day, and watch all night,
I liued in this glorious vaine,
Vntill my limmes were stiffe and lame:
And then I got me home againe,
regarding not such costly fame.
When I came home, I made a proofe
What friends would do if néed should be,
My néerest kins folkes look'd aloofe,
as though they had forgotten me.
And as the Owls by chattring charmes,
Is wondred at of other Birds,
So came they wondring at my harmes,
and yeeld me no releefe but words.
Thus doe I want when they haue store,
That am their equall euery way:
But fortune lent them somewhat more,
else had I beene as good as they.
Come gentle Death and end my griefe,
Ye pretty Birds ring forth my knell:
Let Robin red brest be the chiefe,
to bury me, andd so farewell.
Let no good Souldier be dismaide,
To fight in field with courage bold.
Yet marke the words that I haue said,
trust not to friends when thou art old.
FINIS.
Printed at London for Iohn Wright.