_They say there is no ~Dragon~,_ _Nor no Saint ~George~ ’tis said._ _Saint ~George~ and ~Dragon~ lost,_ _Pray Heaven there be a Maid!_ But it was smartly return’d to, in this manner, _Saint ~George~ indeed is dead,_ _And the fell ~Dragon~ slaine;_ _The ~Maid~ liv’d so and dyed,—_ _She’ll ne’r do so againe._” Somewhat different is the earlier version, in _Wit’s Recreations_, 1640-45. (Reprint, p. 194, which see, “To save a maid,” &c.) The Answer to it is probably Gayton’s own. Page 133 (orig. 29). _Come hither, thou merriest, &c._ Issued as a popular broadsheet, printed at London for Thomas Lambert, probably during the lifetime of Charles I., we find this lively ditty of “Blew Cap for Me!” in the Roxburghe Coll., i. 20, and in the Bd. Soc. Reprint, vol. i. pp. 74-9. Mr. Chappell mentions that the tune thus named “is included in the various editions of _The Dancing Master_ from 1650 to 1690; and says, the reference to ‘when our good king was in Falkland town,’ [in the _Antidote_ it reads “our good _knight_,” line 13] may supply an approximate date to the composition.” We believe that it must certainly have been before the Scots sold their king for the base bribe of money from the Parliamentarians, in 1648, when “Blew caps” became hateful to all true Cavaliers. The visit to Falkland was in 1633, so the date is narrowed in compass. From the Black-letter ballad we gain a few corrections: _drowne_, for dare, in 4th line; long _lock’d_, 26th line; for _further_ exercises, 28th; _Mistris_ (so we should read _Maitresse_, not _a metrel_), 29th; _Pe gar_ me do love you (not “Dear”), 30th; _she_ replide. The First Part ends with the Irishman. The Second Part begins with two verses not in the _Antidote_:— _A Dainty spruce Spanyard, with haire black as jett,_ _long cloak with round cape, a long Rapier and Ponyard;_ _Hee told her if that she could Scotland forget,_ _hee’d shew her the Vines as they grow in the Vineyard._ _“If thou wilt abandon_ _this Country so cold,_ _I’ll show thee faire Spaine,_ _and much Indian gold.”_ _But stil she replide, “Sir,_ _I pray let me be;_ Gif ever I have a man, Blew-cap for me.” _A haughty high German of Hamborough towne,_ _a proper tall gallant, with mighty mustachoes;_ _He weepes if the Lasse vpon him doe but frowne,_ _yet he’s a great Fencer that comes to ore-match vs._ _But yet all his fine fencing_ _Could not get the Lasse;_ _She deny’d him so oft,_ _that he wearyed was;_ _For still she replide, “Sir,_ _I pray let me be;_ Gif ever I have a man, Blew-cap for me.”