A _Netherland_ Mariner came there by chance, Whose cheekes did resemble two rosting pome-watters, And to this Blith lasse this sute did advance; Experience had taught him to cog, lie, and flatter; Quoth he, I will make thee sole Lady of the sea, Both _Spanyard_ and _English_ man shall thee obey: Yet still she replyed, [Geod sir, La be, _If ever I have a man, blew cap for me_]. At last came a _Scotchman_ with a _blew Cap_, And that was the man for whom she had tarryed, To get this Blyth lass it was his Giud hap, They gan to _Kirk_ and were presently married; She car’d not whether he were Lord or Leard, She call’d him sick a like name as I ne’r heard, To get him from aw she did well agree, And still she cryed, _blew Cap_ thou art welcome to mee. [p. 30.] _The Ballad of the Caps._ The Wit hath long beholding been Unto the Cap to keep it in; But now the wits fly out amain, In prayse to quit the Cap again; The Cap that keeps the highest part Obtains the place by due desert: _For any Cap, &c._ [_what ere it bee,_ _Is still the signe of some degree._] The _Monmouth_ Cap, the Saylors thrumbe, And that wherein the Tradesmen come, The Physick Cap, the Cap Divine, And that which Crownes the Muses nine, The Cap that fooles do Countenance, The goodly Cap of Maintenance. _For any Cap, &c._ The sickly Cap both plain and wrought, The Fudling cap, how ever bought, The worsted, Furr’d, the Velvet, Sattin, For which so many pates learn Latin; The Cruel cap, the Fustian Pate, The Perewig, a Cap of late: _For any Cap, &c._ The Souldiers that the _Monmoth_ wear, On Castles tops their Ensigns rear; The Sea-man with his Thrumb doth stand On higher parts then all the Land; The Tradesmans Cap aloft is born, By vantage of a stately horn. _For any Cap, &c._ The Physick Cap to dust can bring Without controul the greatest King: The Lawyers Cap hath Heavenly might To make a crooked action straight; And if you’l line him in the fist, The Cause hee’l warrant as he list. _For any Cap, &c._ Both East and West, and North and South, Where ere the Gospel hath a mouth The Cap Divine doth thither look: Tis Square like Scholars and their Books: The rest are Round, but this is Square To shew their Wits more stable are: _For any Cap, &c._ The Jester he a Cap doth wear, Which makes him Fellow for a Peer, And ’tis no slender piece of Wit To act the Fool, where great Men sit, But O, the Cap of _London_ Town! I wis, ’tis like a goodly Crown. _For any Cap, &c._ The sickly Cap[,] though wrought with silk, Is like repentance, white as milk; When Caps drop off at health apace, The Cap doth then your head uncase, The sick mans Cap (if wrought can tell) Though he be sick, his cap is well. _For any Cap, &c._