Choice of Inventions, Or
Severall sorts of the figure of three,
That are newly composd as here you may see,
Then lend your attention you shall heare anon
It goes to the tune of Rock the Cradle sweet John.
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THere were three men of Gotam,
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as I have heard men say,
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That needs would ride a hunting
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upon Saint Davids day,
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Though all the day they hunting were,
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yet no sport could they see,
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Untill they spide an Owle
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as she sate in a tree:
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The first man said it twas a Goose,
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the second man said nay,
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The third man said it was a Hawke,
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but his Bels were falne away.
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There was an Ewe had three Lambes,
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and one of them was blacke,
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There was a man had three sonnes,
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Jeffery, James and Jacke,
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The one was hangd, the other drownd,
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The third was lost and never found,
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The old man he fell in a sownd,
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come fill us a cup of Sacke.
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There were three London Lasses
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did love a bonney Lad,
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And either of these Wenchs thought
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this young man to have had,
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These Damsels all together met,
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and wrought a strange device,
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That she should have the man that could
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throw most upon three-Dice,
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Their maiden-heads must be the stake,
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now marke what did befall,
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The young man threw the greatest cast
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and bravely wonne them all.
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There was an Ewe, etc.
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There were three good old women,
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that would not be contrould,
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And each of them must take her cup
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to keepe them from the cold,
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The one of them a Taylors wife,
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the other was a Weaver,
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The third a merry Coblers wife,
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that praid for dirty weather:
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To sit and chat of this and that
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it was then their hearts desire,
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So long they staid till two were drunk,
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the third fell in the fire.
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There was an Ewe, etc.
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The Piper pipt his wife a daunce,
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and there sprung up a Rose,
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The Cobler drunke strong Ale so long
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till he had wrongd his Nose:
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His wife came with a Broomstaffe,
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and strooke him on the head,
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That every one did surely thinke
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the Cobler had beene dead,
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But being to his senses come,
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sweet wife said he be quiet,
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This twelve months day Ile take small Beere,
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or water for my diet.
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There was an Ewe, etc.
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A man that hath a sluttish wife,
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is in a beastly taking,
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And he that hath a cleanly wife
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is of another making:
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He that hath a dogged wife,
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my fancy cannot brooke,
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But he that hath a vertuous wife
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hath farre more better lucke:
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He that hath a drunken wife
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that spends all at the Alehouse,
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Were better take a Cord in hand,
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and hang himselfe at the Gallowes.
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There was a Ewe had three Lambs,
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the one of them was blacke,
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There was a man had three sonnes,
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Jeffery, James and Jacke,
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The one was han[?]d, the other drownd,
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The third was lost and never found,
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The old man he fell in a sownd,
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come fill us a cup of Sacke.
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The second part To the same tune.
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THere was a Lasse had three Lovers
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the one of them a Taylor,
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The second was a monied man,
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the third a Joviall Saylor,
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The Taylor gave his Love a Gowne,
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in love and kinde good will,
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The Usurer with his money bags
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her purse did often fill.
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The Saylor in the Evening came
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unto his hearts delight,
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And bravely carried the wench away,
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the childe and all by night.
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There was a Ewe had three Lambes,
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and one of them was blacke,
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There was a man had three sonnes,
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Jeffery, James and Jacke,
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The one was hangd, the other drownd,
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The third was lost and never found,
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The old man he fell in a sownd,
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come fill us a cup of Sacke.
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There were three roaring Fidlers
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came lately out of France,
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That light and nimbly can
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teach maidens how to daunce:
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In Turnbull-street and Clarkenwell,
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Pickt-hatch and faire Bloomsberry,
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These fidlers taught their scholler there
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to sing, daunce and be merry:
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Yet bid all Fidlers have a care
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of dauncing in this kinde,
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Lest they from Tiburne chance to fall,
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and leave their Crowd behinde.
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There was, etc.
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A man that hath a signe at his doore,
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and keeps good ale to sell,
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A comely wife to please his guests,
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may thrive exceeding well,
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But he that hath a scolding wife,
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his fortune is the worse,
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For sheell not onely brawle and chide
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bat picke her husbands purse,
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And he that hath a foole to his wife,
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her neighbours oft will flout her,
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But he that hath a Whore to his wife,
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were better be without her.
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There was, etc.
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There were three lusty souldiers
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went through a towne of late,
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The one lovd Besse, the other Sisse,
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the third lovd bouncing Kate,
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These maidens were three Landresses,
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to wash men shirts and bands,
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And for their pains these souldiers gave
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them wages in their hands:
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The Gallants are to Sweathland gone
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all this is truth I tell yee,
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And lest these Lasses for to cry,
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woe and alas my belly.
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There was, etc.
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Three Gallants in a Taverne
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did bravely call for Wine,
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But he that loves those dainty Cates
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is sure no friend of mine:
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Give me a cup of Barley broth,
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for this of truth is spoke,
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These gallants drunke so hard that each
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was forct to pawne his Cloake:
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The oyle of Barley never did
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such injury doe to none,
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So that they drinke what may suffice,
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and afterwards be gone.
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There was a Ewe had three Lambes,
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and one of them was blacke,
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There was a man had three sonnes,
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Jeffery, James and Jacke,
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The one was hangd, the other drownd,
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The third was lost and never found,
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The old man he fell in a sownd,
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come fill us a cup of Sacke.
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