A light hearts A Jewell.
Or,
The honest good blade who a free heart doth carry,
And cares for nothing but to haves owne vagary.
To the tune of Jacke Puddings vagary.
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ALL you that merry lives doe lead,
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although your meanes bee little,
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That seldome are oreseene in bread,
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nor take much thought for vittle:
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Attend while Ile exemplyfie,
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the mind that I doe carry,
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I take delight both morne and night,
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to have mine owne vagary.
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Though fortune have not lent me wealth
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as shee hath done to many,
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Yet while Ive liberty and health,
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Ile bee as blith as any:
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Ile beare an honest upright heart,
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theres none shall prove contrary,
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Yet now and then Abroad Ile start,
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and have mine owne vagary.
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No base profession will I chuse,
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thereby to get my living,
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No Kent-street maunding will I use,
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my minds more bent to giving:
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I will not say Im this and that,
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with bug Beare boasts to scare ye,
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Let Coxcombs prate they know not what,
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Ile have mine owne vagary.
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I am no Graves-end Travailour,
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No teller of strange storyes,
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No forger of Corantos nor,
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a man that evermore is
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Extolling of his owne deserts,
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and with proud words will dare ye,
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Let such as these are act their parts,
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Ile have mine owne vagary.
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I am no haunter of the Playes,
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to picke poore peoples purses,
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Nor one that every word he saies,
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doth coyne new oathes and curses:
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If I doe runne on Tapsters scores,
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to pay them I am wary,
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Let others spend their means on whoors,
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I love mine owne vagary.
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I am no blade nor Roaring Boy,
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aboading in they City,
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No Whiske, no Lift, nor no Decoy,
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nor one that asks for pitty:
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My educations not the best,
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yet such a heart I carry,
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That what my humour cant disgest,
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it fits not my vagary.
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No City Shuffler scarce of age,
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to have what fate hath left me,
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No haire braind Asse thats full of rage,
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reason hath not bereft me:
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No great Bum-Bayly that may fright,
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my fearefull adversary,
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But one that loves and takes delight,
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to have his owne vagary.
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No Usurer that hords up trash,
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nor yet a noted Spender,
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No borrowing Sharke that never payes,
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but to a Friend a Lender:
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No Petyfog, nor Common-bayle,
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For no such fellowes care I,
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In honest sort Ile never faile,
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to have mine owne vagary.
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The second part, To the same tune.
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NO Bowling Alley Rooke am I,
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that sweareth all by dam mee,
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By such Ile not ore reached bee,
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In this theirs none can blame mee:
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No swaggering Pimp that champion is,
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to Dole, to Kate, and Sary,
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I hate such slavish Offices,
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those fit not my vagary.
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Those painefull Swaines that on the greene,
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doe dayly take their pleasure,
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The pleasantst life that can bee seene,
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though not so stord with treasure:
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When Husband-men and Sheapheard Swaines,
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with Lasses of the Dary,
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Doe sportingly trip ore the Plaines,
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O that fits my vagary.
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I care not to weare Gallant raggs,
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and owe the Taylour for them,
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I care not for those vaunting brags,
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I ever did abhorre them:
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What to the world I seeme to bee,
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no man shall prove contrary,
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My Suites shall suite to my degree,
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O that fits my vagary.
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I care not for those scarre Crow blades,
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whose valour lyes in speeches,
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That in discourse of manhood wades,
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oft-times above their reaches:
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If I have not a minde to fight,
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Ile urge no adversary,
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When word and deed both jump aright,
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O that fits my vagary.
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I care not for the Broakers Booke,
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my names not there inrouled,
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I nothing owe, therefore I looke,
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by none to be controuled:
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I doe not feare the Sergeants Mace,
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walke by the Counter dare I,
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And looke a Bayliffe in the face,
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O this is my vagary.
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I care not much in company,
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to spend what is allotted,
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Ile drinke but for sufficiency,
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Ile never bee besotted:
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When I doe feele my spirits dull,
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a cup of old Canary
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Will fill my heart with courage full,
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and this is my vagary.
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I care not for sad malecontent,
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that is the bane of nature,
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I love good honest merryment,
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and Ile despise no creature:
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Thats for my use and sustinence,
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and still I will bee wary,
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Least I exceed in my expence,
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that fits not my vagary.
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Still will I have an honest care,
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that none lyes wronged by mee,
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Ile not build Castles in the ayre,
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whoever lists to try me,
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Shall find in all thats promisd heere,
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not any word contrary,
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I envious censure doe not feare,
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Ile have mine owne vagary.
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