Page 153. _An old house end._ Also in _Windsor Drollery_, 1672, p. 30. Same p. 153. _Wilt thou lend me thy Mare._ With music by Edmund Nelham, in John Hilton’s _Catch that Catch can_, 1652, p. 78. The Answer, here beginning “Your Mare is lame,” &c., we have not met elsewhere. The Catch itself has always been a favourite. In a world wherein, amid much neighbourly kindness, there is more than a little of imposition, the sly cynicism of the verse could not fail to please. Folks do not object to doing a good turn, but dislike being deemed silly enough to have been taken at a disadvantage. So we laugh at the Catch, say something wise, and straightway let ourselves do good-natured things again with a clear conscience. Page 154. _Good ~Symon~, how comes it, &c._ With music by William Howes, in Hilton’s _Catch that Catch can_, 1652, p. 84. Also in Walsh’s _Catch-Club_, ii. 77. We are told that the _Symon_ here addressed, regarding his Bardolphian nose, was worthy Symon Wadloe,—“Old _Sym_, the King of Skinkers,” or Drawers. Possibly some jocular allusion to the same reveller animates the choice ditty (for which see the _Percy Folio MS._, iv. 124, and _Pills_, iii. 143), _Old Sir ~Simon~ the King!_ _With his ale-dropt hose,_ _And his malmesy nose,_ _Sing hey ding, ding a ding ding._ We scarcely believe the ascription to be correct, and that “Old Symon the King” originally referred to Simon Wadloe, who kept the “Devil and St. Dunstan” Tavern, whereat Ben Jonson and his comrades held their meetings as The Apollo Club; for which the _Leges Conviviales_ were written. Seeing that Wadloe died in 1626, or ’27, and there being a clear trace of “Old Simon the King” in 1575, in Laneham’s _Kenilworth Letter_ (Reprinted for Ballad Society, 1871, p. cxxxi.), the song appears of too early a date to suit the theory. _Tant pis pour les faits._ But consult Chappell’s _Pop. Mus._, 263-5, 776-7. Same p. 154. _Wilt thou be fatt? &c._ In 1865 (see his _Bibliog. Account_, i. 25), J. P. Collier drew attention to the mention of Falstaff’s name in this Catch; also to the other _Shakesperiana_, viz., the complete song of “Jog on, jog on the footpath way,” (p. 156), and the burden of “Three merry boys,” to “The Wise-men were but Seven” (_M. D. C._, p. 232), which is connected with Sir Toby Belch’s joviality in _Twelfth Night_, Act ii. 3. Page 155. _Of all the birds that ever I see._ With the music, in Chappell’s _Pop. Mus. O. T._, p. 75. This favourite of our own day dates back so early, at least, as 1609, when it appeared in (Thomas Ravenscroft’s?) _Deuteromelia; or, the Second Part of Musick’s Melodie, &c._, p. 7. We therein find (what has dropped out, to the damage of our _Antidote_ version), as the final couplet:— _Sinamont and ginger, nutmegs and cloves,_ _And that gave me my jolly red nose._