Detail View: LUNA: Folger Manuscript Transcriptions Collection: A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].

Digital Image File Name: 
142188
Source Call Number: 
V.a.125
Source Title: 
A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].
Image Details: 
Part I. When reading Part I, Part II is inverted and reversed.
Source Creator: 
Burlington, Richard Boyle, Earl of, 1612-1698, compiler.
Source Created or Published: 
ca. 1630
Physical Description: 
folio 35 verso || folio 36 recto
Digital Image Type: 
FSL collection
Hamnet Catalog Link: 
http://hamnet.folger.edu/cgi-bin/Pwebrecon.cgi?BBID=229445
Transcription: 
I could not chuse but light at Weeden towne To see that Hostesse of soe great renowne. Far fam'd faire Knightly whoe hath Hostesse been This many yeares, but guiltie of the Sin That's due to her profession, but I rowe As chast as Lucrece for any thing I know. She'es faire without exception plumpe & full And her eye witnesseth shee is not dull They that haue tr'id both, sweare that Franck at Greyes Compa'rd to her hath lost the crowne of bayes. Better then both I like the D auntrie host That with his pot of ale & browne bread tost Sings merry catches, & with mamsie nose. Lights his Tobacco, crying those oh those Were happie times when ^ wee thought money drosse And esteem'd thriftiness to bee a losse. Hee liues as merry as the day is long And thinks of nothing but a Sprightly Song To cheare those weary guests that vse to rayle On there hard Saddles that haue gald their tayle But now wee ride to Couentrie amaine Where pure men teach & teach & teach againe The vniust iudge was neuer soe besett With widdowes cries as God is with their chatt They pray soe often as if hee had nought To doe but harken to what they haue sought page break 36. But while they pray'd I went to Merydin And there my hostesse tooke mee by the chin, And Swore I was as prettie a hansome youth As in her life time She had Seene forsooth. But for this commendations I must pay For two fresh cans, & soe wee went away. To goe (famous for Iron) to Bromicham Where wee all night lod'gd at the holy lambe But if one maiden of the house had been Not holy Sure I had committed Sinn. I left her honnest & I daily pray Shee'le keepe her Selfe Soe to the latest day And Soe wee left this towne & now to Tongue Whose greatest bell hath been renowned long Boue Bowe, or Christchurch Tom that hath oft been Rung out with praises by their youthfull Deane. And this in Miracles hath outdone Tom Att's first or second resurrection. The Sound of this hath made an Host forget His drinke to meditate on Sacred writ . . Now it rings out & with its dismall sound Driues vs away to Newport where I found A prettie Hostesse but yet somewhat coy At the first sight, yet afterward shee'd toy Handle
Credit: 
Transcriptions made by Shakespeare's World volunteers (shakespearesworld.org), participants in EMROC classes and transcribathons (emroc.hypotheses.org), participants in Folger paleography classes and transcribathons, and Folger docents.