2.—_The Cap doth stand, each man can show,_ _Above a Crown, but Kings below:_ _The Cap is nearer heav’n than we;_ _A greater sign of Majestie:_ _When off the Cap we chance to take,_ _Both head and feet obeysance make;_ For any Cap, &c. In our 3rd verse, it reads:—ever _brought_, The _quilted_, Furr’d; _crewel_; 4th verse, line 6, of (_some say_) a horn. 5th verse, crooked _cause aright; Which, being round and endless, knows_ || _To make as endless any cause_ [A better version]. 6th, _findes_ a mouth; 7th, The _Motley Man_ a Cap; [for lines 3, 4, compare Shakespeare, as to it taking a wise man to play the fool,] like _the Gyant’s_ Crown. 8th, Sick-_mans_; When _hats in Church_ drop off apace, _This_ Cap _ne’er leaves the_ head _uncas’d_, Though he be _ill_; [two next verses are expanded into three, in _Sp. Wit_.] 11th, none but _Graduats_ [N.B.]; _none_ covered are; _But those that_ to; _go_ bare. _This_ Cap, _of all the Caps that be_, Is _now_; _high_ degree. Page 139 (orig. 37). _Once I a curious eye did fix._ This is in THOMAS WEAVER’S _Songs and Poems of Love and Drollery_, p. 16, 1654. Elsewhere attributed to JOHN CLEVELAND (who died in 1658), and printed among his Poems “_J. Cleavland Revived_” (p. 106, 3rd edit. 1662), as “The Schismatick,” with a trashy fifth verse (not found elsewhere):— _I heard of one did touch,_ _He did tell as much,_ _Of one that would not crouch_ _At ~Communion~;_ _Who thrusting up his hand_ _Never made a stand_ _Till he came where her f—— had union;_ _She without all terrour,_ _Thought it no errour,_ _But did laugh till the tears down did trickle,_ _Ha, ha, ha, ~Rotundus~, ~Rotundus~, ’tis you that my spleen doth tickle._ It is likewise in the _Rump_ collection, i. 223, 1662; _Loyal Sgs._, i. 131, 1731. Page 139 (orig. 47). _I’s not come here to tauk of ~Prut~._ By BEN JONSON. This is the song of the Welshmen, Evan, Howell, and Rheese, alternately, in Praise of Wales, sung in an Anti-Masque “For the Honour of Wales,” performed before King James I. on Shrove Tuesday, 1618-19. The final verse is omitted from the _Antidote against Melancholy_. It is this (sung by Rheese):— _Au, but what say yow should it shance too,_ _That we should leap it in a dance too,_ _And make it you as great a pleasure,_ _If but your eyes be now at leisure;_ _As in your ears s’all leave a laughter,_ _To last upon you six days after?_ _Ha! well-a-go to, let us try to do,_ _As your old ~Britton~, things to be writ on._ CHORUS.—_Come, put on other looks now,_ _And lay away your hooks now;_ _And though yet yow ha’ no pump, sirs,_ _Let ’em hear that yow can jump, sirs,_ _Still, still, we’ll toudge your ears,_ _With the praise of her thirteen s’eeres._