_Hang Sorrow! let’s cast away care,_ _for now I do mean to be merry;_ _Wee’l drink some good Ale and strong Beere,_ _With Sugar, and Clarret, and Sherry._ _Now Ile have a wife of mine own:_ _I shall have no need for to borrow;_ _I would have it for to be known_ _that I shall be married to morrow._ Here’s a health to my Bride that shall be! come, pledge it, you coon merry blades; The day I much long for to see, we will be as merry as the Maides. Poor fellow! he soon changes his tune, after marriage, although singing to the music of “Such a Rogue would be hang’d,”—better known as “Old Sir Simon the King.” Printed by John Wright the younger (1641-83), it survives in the Roxburghe Collection, i. 172, and is reprinted for the Bd. Soc., i. 515. As may be seen, it is totally different from the Catch in Hilton’s volume and the _Antidote_; which is also in _Oxford Drollery_, Pt. 3, p. 136, there entitled “A Cup of Sack:—“_Hang Sorrow, cast_,” &c. It there has two more verses:— 2. _Come Ladd, here’s a health to thy Love,_ [p. 136.] _Do thou drink another to mine,_ _I’le never be strange, for if thou wilt change_ _I’le barter my Lady for thine:_ _She is as free, and willing to be_ _To any thing I command,_ _I vow like a friend, I never intend_ _To put a bad thing in thy hand:_ _Then be as frollick and free_ [p. 137.] _With her as thou woul’st with thine own,_ _But let her not lack good Claret and Sack,_ _To make her come off and come on._ 3. _Come drink, we cannot want Chink,_ _Observe how my pockets do gingle,_ _And he that takes his Liquor all off_ _I here do adopt him mine ningle:_ _Then range a health to our King,_ _I mean the King of ~October~,_ _For ~Bacchus~ is he that will not agree_ _A man should go to bed sober:_ _’Tis wine, both neat and fine,_ _That is the faces adorning,_ _No Doctor can cure, with his Physick more sure,_ _Than a Cup of small Beer in the morning._ This shows how a great man’s gifts are undervalued. Christopher Sly was truly wise (yet accounted a Sot and even a Rogue, though “the Slys are no rogues: look in the chronicles! We came in with Richard Conqueror!”) when, with all the wealth and luxury of the Duke at command, he demanded nothing so much as “a pot o’ the smallest ale.” He had good need of it. Page 152. _My Lady and her Maid, upon a merry pin._ This meets us earlier, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch Can_, 1651, p. 64, with music by William Ellis. The missing first verse reappears (if, indeed, not a later addition) in _Oxford Drollery_, 1674, Part iii. p. 163, as “made at Oxford many years since”:— _My Lady and her Maid_ _Were late at Course-a-Park:_ _The wind blew out the candle, and_ _She went to bed in the dark,_ _My Lady, &c._ [as in _Antidote ag. Mel._] It was popular before December, 1659; allusions to it are in the _Rump_, 1662, i. 369; ii. 62, 97.