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Yet they, poor souls, think, for their credit,
That they believe old Joseph did it,

'Cause he deserved enough.

6 There is one of the cross's nails,
Which whoso sees, his bonnet vails,

And, if he will, may kneel;
Some say 'twas false, 'twas never so,
Yet, feeling it, thus much I know,

It is as true as steel.

7 There is a lanthorn which the Jews,
When Judas led them forth, did use,

It weighs my weight downright;
But to believe it, you must think
The Jews did put a candle in ’t,

And then 'twas very light.

8 There's one saint there hath lost his nose, Another's head, but not his toes,

His elbow and his thumb;
But when that we had seen the rags,
We went to th' inn and took our nags,

did come.

And so away

9 We came to Paris, on the Seine,
'Tis wondrous fair, 'tis nothing clean,

'Tis Europe's greatest town;
How strong it is I need not tell it,
For all the world may easily smell it,

That walk it up and down.

10 There many strange things are to see, The palace and great gallery,

The Place Royal doth excel,

The New Bridge, and the statutes there,
At Notre Dame St Q. Pater,

The steeple bears the bell.

11 For learning the University,
And for old clothes the Frippery,

The house the queen did build.
St Innocence, whose earth devours
Dead corps in four-and-twenty hours,
And there the king was kill’d.

12 The Bastille and St Denis Street,
The Shafflenist like London Fleet,

The Arsenal no toy;
But if you 'll see the prettiest thing,
Go to the court and see the king-

Oh, 'tis a hopeful boy!

13 He is, of all his dukes and peers, ,
Reverenced for much wit at 's years,

Nor must you think it much;
For he with little switch doth play,
And make fine dirty pies of clay,

Oh, never king made such!
14 A bird that can but kill a fly,
Or prate, doth please his majesty,

'Tis known to every one; The Duke of Guise gave him a parrot, And he had twenty cannons for it,

For his new galleon.

15 Oh that I e'er might have the hap To get the bird which in the map

Is call'd the Indian ruck!

I'd give it him, and hope to be
As rich as Guise or Liviné,

Or else I had ill-luck.

16 Birds round about his chamber stand, And he them feeds with his own hand,

'Tis his humility; And if they do want anything, They need but whistle for their king,

And he comes presently.

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,* 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.

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?
* Anne of Austria.

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.

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