With merry solaces, quite voyd of all malice, with honest good fellowes thats here, No cursing nor swearing, no staring nor tearing, amongst us do seeme to appeare. When we have spent, all to labour we fall, for a living wee'le dig, or wee'le delve, Determin'd to be both bounteous and free, he that made eleven, made twelve. Now I think it is fit and most requisit, to drinke a health to our wives, The which being done, wee'le pay and be gone, strong drinke all our wits now deprives. Then, Hostesse, let's know the summe that we owe, twelve pence there is for certain Then fill t'other pot, and here's money for't for he that made twelve made thirteene. FINIS. London, Printed for _Henry Gossen_. [Footnote 179: Being mean, miserly.] [52.] An untravelled Irish man intended to see England, and arriving at London, chanced to light on a Barbers shoppe, supposing by his cluster of Basons hanging at the door, it must of necessity be some penny-pottage Ordinary: and, wanting the language, entred the shop, and pointed to his mouth, meaning some victuals to stay his hunger. The Barber gathered by this signe, that the poore fellow had pain in his teeth, and desired to have one pluckt out; willed him to sit downe in his Chaire, and approached with his dismall instruments towards the fellows chaps. The Irishman began to wonder at this strange kinde of feeding, giving the Barber to understand (so well as he could) he was never brought up to that kinde of feeding, and with an unmannerly thrust bad him, Avant.[F. 180] The Barber, half discontented, tumbled the Irish man with his Chair upside down, who, sprawling on the ground began to seeke after the doore, and made as much haste to his lodging as he could: where, meeting with one of his Countrymen, hee prayed him, of all loves, to depart this Country of England, and returne to that worthy Ireland. For, (quoth he) they be ill divels here, and no honest men, since when a poore stranger makes shew of hunger, the knavish Inhabitants will break out men's teeth like dogs, and so send us to our Country again with never a tooth in our heads: which caused much good mirth to all that heard it. [Footnote 180: Avaunt, begone.] [17.] A great Lord being in the Tower was visited by some other Lords; and being merry, one began the Kings health, which he refused to pledge. They told him 'twould be ill taken: Why truly, my Lords, saies he, I'll pray for the Kings health, but drink for my own.