Mondayes Worke.
OR
The two honest neigbours both birds of a feather
Who are at the Ale-house both merry together.
To the tune of, I owe my Hostesse money.
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GOod morow neighbour Gamble,
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Come let you and I goe ramble,
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Last night I was shot
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Through the braines with a Pot,
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and now my stomacke doth wamble:
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Your Possets and your Caudles,
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Are fit for babes in Cradles:
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A piece of salt Hogge,
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And a haire of the old Dogge
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is good to cure our drunken Noddles,
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Come hither mine Host, come hither,
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Heres two birds of a feather,
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Come hither mine Host
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With a Pot and a Tost,
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and let us be merry together.
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I rose in the morning early,
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To take this Juice of barly,
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But if my wife Jone
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Knew where I were gone,
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sheed call me to a Parley.
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My bones I doe not favour,
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But honestly doe labour:
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But when I am out,
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I must make a mad bout
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come heres halfe a pot to thee neighbour.
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Come hither, etc.
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Gramarcy neighbour Jinkin,
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I see thou lovest no shrinking,
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And I for my part,
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From thee will not start,
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come fill us a little more drinke in.
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Ith weeke we aske but one day,
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And thats next after Sunday,
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Our custome weele hold,
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Although our Wives scold,
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the Mault-man comes a Monday.
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Come hither, etc.
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Come lets have our Liquor about us,
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Mine Host doe not misdoubt us,
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Yet if we should call,
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And pay none at all,
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you were better be without us:
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But we are no such fellowes,
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Though some in clothes excell us,
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And yet have no coyne,
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For Liquor to Joyne.
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yet we have both whites and yellowes,
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Come hither, etc.
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We scorne those rooking Rorers,
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That are such common scorers,
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No coyne they can spare,
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Because they are
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such Dicers and such Whorers;
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But we doe hate such doing,
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Weele wast no meanes in wooing,
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Yet such as they be
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Make you thinke that we
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will not pay what is owing.
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Come hither mine Host, come hither,
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Heres two birds of a feather,
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Come hither mine Host
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With a pot and a Tost,
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and let us be merry together.
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The second Part. To the same Tune.
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COme ply your worke my Masters,
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Let us not be time wasters,
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To worke or to play
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Very hard (as some say)
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is a signe of good fore-casters.
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Much prate to me is loathing
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To cumber the house for nothing,
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I hate a long tale,
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Give me some more Ale,
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which is meate, drinke, and cloathing,
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Come hither mine Host, come hither,
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Heres two birds of a feather,
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Come hither mine Host
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With a Pot and a Tost,
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and let us be merry together
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If wicked Will the Weaver,
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Or True the Taylor either,
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Were here with us now,
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To part we knew not how,
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till we were drunke together:
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Or Tom the neate Shoomaker,
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Or Kit the Joviall Baker,
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If any one of these
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Come hither and sees,
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with us heele be a Partaker.
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Come hither mine Host, come hither,
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Heres two birds of a feather,
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Come hither mine Host
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With a Pot and a Tost,
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and let us be merry together.
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But sith there is no more here
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Weele say as we did before here,
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Betweene us weele call,
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And pay for it all,
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for we scorne to goe on the score here,
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Lets take off our Liquor roundly,
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And though we doe drinke soundly,
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Our humour is such,
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Weele not drinke so much,
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untill we both on the ground lye.
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Come hither mine Host, come hither,
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Heres two birds of a feather,
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Come hither mine Host
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With a Pot and a Tost,
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and let us be merry together.
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Now lest our Wives should find us,
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Tis fit we should look behinde us,
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Lets see what is done,
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Then pay and be gone.
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as honesty hath assignd us.
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Tis strong Ale I conceive it,
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Tis good in time to leave it,
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Or else it will make,
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Our foreheads to ake,
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tis vanity to out brave it.
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Come hither mine Host, come hither
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Heres two birds of a feather,
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Come hither mine Host
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With a Pot and a Tost,
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and let us be merry together.
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