17 But now, then, for these parts he must Be enstyled Lewis the Just, Great Henry's lawful heir; When to his style to add more words, They'd better call him King of Birds, Than of the great Navarre. 18 He hath besides a pretty quirk, Taught him by nature, how to work In iron with much ease; Sometimes to the forge he goes, There he knocks and there he blows, And makes both locks and keys; 19 Which puts a doubt in every one, Whether he be Mars' or Vulcan's son, Some few believe his mother; But let them all say what they will, I came resolved, and so think still, As much the one as th' other. 20 The people too dislike the youth, Alleging reasons, for, in truth, Mothers should honour'd be; Yet others say, he loves her rather As well as ere she loved her father, And that's notoriously. 21 His queen,[1] a pretty little wench, Was born in Spain, speaks little French, She's ne'er like to be mother; For her incestuous house could not Have children which were not begot By uncle or by brother. 22 Nor why should Lewis, being so just, Content himself to take his lust With his Lucina's mate, And suffer his little pretty queen, From all her race that yet hath been, So to degenerate? 23 'Twere charity for to be known To love others' children as his own, And why? it is no shame, Unless that he would greater be Than was his father Henery, Who, men thought, did the same. [1] Anne of Austria. FAREWELL TO THE FAIRIES. 1 Farewell, rewards and fairies, Good housewives now may say, For now foul sluts in dairies Do fare as well as they. And though they sweep their hearths no less Than maids were wont to do, Yet who of late, for cleanliness, Finds sixpence in her shoe? 2 Lament, lament, old Abbeys, The fairies lost command; They did but change priests' babies, But some have changed your land; And all your children sprung from thence Are now grown Puritans; Who live as changelings ever since, For love of your domains. 3 At morning and at evening both, You merry were and glad, So little care of sleep or sloth These pretty ladies had; When Tom came home from labour, Or Cis to milking rose, Then merrily went their tabor, And nimbly went their toes. 4 Witness those rings and roundelays Of theirs, which yet remain, Were footed in Queen Mary's days On many a grassy plain; But since of late Elizabeth, And later, James came in, They never danced on any heath As when the time hath been. 5 By which we note the fairies Were of the old profession, Their songs were Ave-Maries, Their dances were procession: But now, alas! they all are dead, Or gone beyond the seas; Or further for religion fled, Or else they take their ease.