By which he was discerned
To be one of the learned,
To entertain the queen here,
When last she was seen here.
And for the town of Coventry
To act to her sovereignty.
But so his lot fell out,
That serving then a-foot,
And being a little man;
When the skirmish began
'Twixt the Saxon and the Dane,
(From thence the story was ta'en)
He was not so well seen

As he would have been o' the queen.

Wemen, the Prooud Wives Pater-Noster, the Chapman of a Peniworth of Wit: Beside his Auncient Playz, Yooth and Charitee, Hikskorner, Nugizce, Impacient Poverty, and herewith Doctor Boords Breviary of Health. What shoold I rehearz heer, what a Bunch of Ballets and Songs, all auncient; az Broom broom on Hil, So wo is me begon, truly lo, Over a Whinny Meg, Hey ding a ding, Bony lass upon a green, My bony on gave me a bek, By a bank as I lay and a hundred more he hath fair wrapt up in parchment, and bound with a whip-cord. And as for Almanaks of Antiquitee (a point for Ephemeridees), I ween he can sheaw from Jasper Lact of Antwerp unto Nostradam of Frauns, and thens untoo oour John Securiz of Salsbury. To stay ye no longer heer in, I dare say he hath az fair a Library for theez sciencez, and as many goodly monuments both in prose and poetry, and at afternoonz can talk az much without book az ony inholder betwixt Brainford and Bagshot, what degree soever he be.".

The letter-writer evidently meant to raise a smile at the Cap. tain's expense; but there is no occasion for it. The list shews him to have been a diligent and successful collector of the domestic literature of his country, and so far he is entitled to praise. Some of the fugitive pieces here mentioned are now lost; one of them however, the Hundred Merry Tales, which has long set the Shakspeare commentators by the ears, has partly been recovered within these few days, pasted into the binding of an old book. It is now in Mr. Bindley's possession, and proves to be a collection of jests, of no great novelty or value.

Though his sword were twice so long

As any man's else in the throng;
And for his sake, the play

Was call'd for the second day.
But he made a vow

(And he performs it now)

That were he alive or dead,

Hereafter it should never be said

But captain Cox would serve on horse
For better or for worse,

If any prince came hither,

And his horse should have a feather;
Nay such a prince it might be
Perhaps he should have three.
Now, sir, in your approach,
The rumbling of your coach
Awaking me, his ghost,
I come to play your host;
And feast your eyes and ears,
Neither with dogs nor bears,'
Though that have been a fit
Of our main-shire wit,
In times heretofore,

But now, we have got a little more.
These then that we present

With a most loyal intent,

And, as the author saith,

No ill meaning to the catholic faith,
Are not so much beasts, as fowls,
But a very nest of owls,

And natural, so thrive I,

I found them in the ivy,

Neither with dogs nor bears.] This alludes to the following passage in the Letter. "On the syxth day of her Majestyes cumming, a great sort of bandogs whear thear tyed in the utter cooart, and thyrteen bears in the inner," &c. See Massinger, vol. i. p. 44.

A thing, that though I blunder'd at,
It may in time be wonder'd at,
If the place but affords

Any store of lucky birds,
As I make them to flush,

Each owl out of his bush.

Now, these owls, some say, were men,

And they may be so again,

If once they endure the light
Of your highness' sight:

For bankrupts, we have known
Rise to more than their own,
With a little-little savour
Of the prince's favour;

But as you like their tricks,
I'll spring them, they are but six.

HEY, OWL FIRST!

This bird is London-bred,

As you may see by his horn'd head.
And had like to have been ta'en
At his shop in Ivy-lane,
Where he sold by the penny
Tobacco as good as any;
But whether it did provoke
His conscience, he sold smoke;
Or some other toy he took,
Towards his calling to look:
He fled by moon-shine thence;
And broke for sixteen pence.

HEY, OWL SECOND!

This too, the more is the pity,
Is of the breed of the same city;

4 Hey, Owl first!] Here the captain probably produced, from beneath the foot-cloth of the hobby-horse, a block ridiculously dressed or painted to correspond with the description.

A true owl of London
That gives out he is undone,
Being a cheesemonger,

By trusting two of the younger
Captains, for the hunger

Of their half-starv'd number;
Whom since they have shipt away:
And left him God to pay,

With those ears for a badge
Of their dealing with his Madge.

HEY, OWL THIRD!

A pure native bird

This, and though his hue
Be not Coventry blue,
Yet is he undone

By the thread he has spun ;
For since the wise town
Has let the sports down

Of may-games and morris,

For which he right sorry is;

Where their maids and their makes,"

At dancings and wakes,

5 God to pay,] A cant term for a hopeless debt, nothing. See Epig. xii.

A pure native bird.] i. e. a puritan of Coventry, whose zeal in putting down may-poles and hobby-horses had injured the manufactory of blue thread (the chief staple of the town,) of which a great consumption was made in ornamenting napkins, scarfs, &c. "I have heard," an old writer, W. Stafford, says, "that the chief trade of Coventry, was heretofore in making blew thred, and then the towne was riche ever upon that trade in maner onely, and now our thredde comes all from beyond sea: wherefore that trade of Coventry is decaied, and thereby the towne likewise." This appeared long before Owl the third was hatched; so that the wise town must have suffered from more causes than the loss of its rural sports.

7 Where their maids, and their makes.] i. e. mates. So Chaucer :

"God shelde soche a lordes wife to take

Another man to husbonde, or to make." WHAL.

Had their napkins and posies,
And the wipers for their noses,
And their smocks all-be-wrought
With his thread which they bought:
It now lies on his hands,

And having neither wit nor lands,
Is ready to hang or choke him,
In a skein of that that broke him.

HEY, OWL FOURTH!

Was once a bankrupt of worth;
And having run a shifting-race,
At last by money, and grace,
Got him a serjeant's place,
And to be one of chace.

A full fortnight was not spent,
But out comes the parliament,

Takes away the use of his mace,

And left him in a worse than his first case.

HEY, OWL FIFTH !

But here was a defeat,

Never any so great,

Of a Don, a Spanish reader,

Who had thought to have been the leader,

Had the match gone on,

Of our ladies one by one,

And triumph'd our whole nation,
In his rodomant fashion:

But now since the breach,

He has not a scholar to teach.

HEY, OWL SIXTH!

The bird bringer-up is a knight,

But a passionate wight,

Who, since the act against swearing,

(The tale's worth your hearing)