But be sure overnight,

If this dog do you bite,

You take it henceforth for a warning:

Soon as out of your bed,

To settle your head,

Take a hair of his tail in the morning.

And be not so silly

To follow old Lilly,

For there's nothing but sack that can tune us;

Let his ne assuescas

Be put in his cap case,

And sing bibito vinum jejunus.

Music by Mr. William Child.

I find an old French version of the above cure for a debauch, in a book of chansons, printed at Antwerp, 1543. The music by Clemens (non Papa).

"Si par trop boire lendemain,

"Vous tremble teste, pied, ou main;
"Prenez bientôst sans contredit,
"Du poil du chien qui vous mordit."

CCCXXXVIII.

Good Simon, how comes it your nose looks so red,

And your cheeks and lips look so pale?

Sure the heat of the toast,

Your nose did so roast,

When they were both sous'd in ale.

It shows like the spire

Of Paul's steeple on fire,

Each ruby darts forth such flashes ;
While your face looks as dead

As if it were lead;

And cover'd all over with ashes.

Now to heighten his colour

Yet fill his pot fuller,

And nick it not so with froth:

Gramercye! mine host,

It shall save the toast;

Sup, Simon, for here is good broth.

Music by W. Howes.

Good Mr. Simon, if thou wast not a near kinsman of that knight of the burning lamp, that everlasting bonfire light, that ignis fatuus Bardolph, there's no purchase in money; and as Sir John Falstaff said of his worthy adherent, the description of thy physiognomy reminds one of "Dives "that lived in purple; for there he is in his robes-burning, "burning."

THOMAS VAUTOR

Was a Bachelor of Music, and Composer of a set of “ songs "of divers airs and natures, of five and six parts, apt for "viols and voices." Dedicated to "the Marquis of Buck"ingham."

They are twenty-two in number.

CCCXXXIX.

Fair are the words that cover deep deceit,

As next sweet honey lies the poison'd sting;
The crooked hook is hid in pleasant bait,

Which unforeseen too late repentance bring.

So George Turberville in one of his sonnets, A.D. 1560.
"Think, when thou seest the bait,
"Wherein is thy delight;

"That hidden hooks are hard at hand,
"To bane, when thou dost bite."

Still more elegant are the following anonymous lines from England's Helicon :

"All is not gold that shineth bright in show,
"Not ev'ry flow'r so good as fair to sight;
"The deepest streams above do calmly flow,
"And strongest poisons oft the taste delight.
"The pleasant bait doth hide the harmful hook,
"And false deceit can lend a friendly look."

CCCXL.

Sweet Suffolk owl, so trimly dight,
With feathers like a lady bright;

Thou sit'st alone, singing by night

Te whit, te whoo!

Thy note, that forth so freely rolls,

With shrill command the mouse controls,

And sings a dirge for dying souls *,

Te whit, te whoo!

* "And eke the owl that of death bode bringeth."—Chaucer.

CCCXLI.

Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white,
For all those rosy ornaments in thee:
Thou art not sweet, tho' made of mere delight,
Nor fair, nor sweet-unless thou pity me.
I will not soothe thy fancies, thou shalt prove
That beauty is no beauty without love.

This stanza is written in the same spirit with Wither's well-known distich;

"If she be not so to me,

"What care I how fair she be?"

'Tis a good doctrine to recommend, but not altogether so easy to put in practice.

CCCXLII.

Blush, my rude present-blushing yet say this;
That he who sent thee, meant a better thing:
Best meaners oft of their best purpose miss,
Best runners sometimes fail to hit the ring.
Tell my sweet mistress, saint of womankind,
What wants in show, he doth supply in mind.

CCCXLIII.

Shepherds and nymphs, that trooping

Were wont to fetch home May with hey and whooping

Why sit you dead and drooping?

Up up, for shame, and leave this heavy mourning,
For Orian is not dead, but lives renowned:
Beyond all human honour base earth scorning,
Fair Orian now a saint in heav'n is crowned.

Both bonfires and bell ringers

She left us, and good singers;

Then sing, ye nymphs and shepherds of Diana,
Farewell, farewell, fair Oriana.

This is one of the Madrigals coming under the denomination of Oriana's Farewell.-(See Triumphs of Oriana.)

The bringing home of the May is thus described by E. Spenser:

Siker this morrow, no longer ago,

I saw a shole of shepherds outgo
With singing, and shouting, and jolly cheer;
Before them yode a lusty Tabrere,

That to the many a horn-pipe play'd,
Whereto they dancen each one with his maid.
To see these folks make such jouissance,
Made my heart after the pipe to dance.
Then to the greenwood they speeden them all,
To fetchen home May with their musical:
And home they bring him in a royal throne
Crowned as king; and his queen attone
Was Lady Flora, on whom did attend
A fair flock of fairies, and a fresh bend

Of lovely nymphs-O that I were there,

To helpen the ladies their May bush to bear!
Shepherds' Calendar.-Eclogue 5.

And by Stubbes in his Anatomy of Abuses, A.D. 1595.

66

Against Mayday, Whitsunday or some other time of "the year, every parish, town, or village assemble them"selves, both men, women and children; and either alto