The DEVILs OAK:
OR,
His Ramble in a Tempestuous Night.
Where he happend to Discourse with Men of several Callings of his own Colour
and Complexion. To a very pleasant new Tune.
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ANd the Devil he was weather-beat,
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and forcd to take a tree;
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Because that the Tempest it was so great,
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his way he could not see:
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But under an Oak, instead of a cloak,
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he stood to keep himself dry,
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And as he stood, a Fryer in his hood
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by chance came passing by:
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And the Devil he made the Fryer afraid,
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with that he crost his breast;
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Then up the Devil star[t]ed, the Fryer was faint-hearted,
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you may wink and choose the Best:
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For I am the Fryer and thou art the Lyar,
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therefore thou art my Father;
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I am a Doctor of Evil, and thou art the Devil,
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the Worser I hold thee rather.
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A Collier and his cart came by,
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which coals he did use to carry,
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And so soon as the Devil he did him espy,
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he causd him a while to tarry,
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For why I do think, that with thee I must drink,
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and he calld for a glass of claret;
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Now I find by thy smell, t[h]at thou camest from Hell,
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and I fear thou hast stole my chariot.
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Then the next that came by [w]as a Chimny-sweeper,
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with poles, his brooms and shackles,
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What meast, thou Man, the Devil, he said,
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that thou usest all those tackles?
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I prithee, gentle Blade, tell me thy trade,
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thy face it is so besmeared,
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Hadst thou been so black, and no tools at thy back,
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thoudst have made me sore afraid.
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Sir, a Chimny-sweeper, I do profess,
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although my trades but mean,
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It is for to sweep all dirty holes,
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and to keep foul chimnys clean:
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Then go thou to Hell, where the Devil he doth dwell,
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and he will give thee a piece;
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God-a-mercy, old Dog, when I sheer my hog,
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then thou shalt have the fleece.
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The next that came by was a Tawny moor,
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and the Devil did him see,
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And he fleered on his tawny skin,
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crying, Friend, art thou any kin to me;
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For sure your skin doth resemble our kin,
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therefore let us walk together,
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And tell me how you do allow
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of this tempestuous weather.
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Then the next that came by was a Gun-powder-man,
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which coals and brimstone sifted,
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That in three quarters of a year,
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himself had hardly shifted:
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Then up the Devil rose, and snuffed his nose,
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he could indure it no longer,
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Cryd, Away with this fume, tis not fit for the room[,]
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it will neither quench thirst, no, nor hunger.
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I prithee, gentle Blade, tell me thy trade,
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as thou hast so strong a smell?
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It it is for to make gun-powder, he said,
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for to blow the Devil out of Hell;
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And if I had him here[,] his joynts would I tear,
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he should neither scratch, no, nor bite;
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I would plague the Devil for all his evil,
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and make him leave walking by night.
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Then a Tinker worse than all the rest,
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although that he was not so black,
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By chance as he came passing by,
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with his budget on his back,
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He cryd, Yonder is the Devils Tree,
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let us see who durst go thither,
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For it will sustain, from the wind and the rain,
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or any tempestuous weather.
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That shall be tryd, the Devil then he cryd,
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then up the Devil he did start;
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Then the Tinker threw his staff about,
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and he made the Devil for to smart;
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There against a gate, he did brake his pate,
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and both his horns he broke:
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And ever since that time, I will make up my rhyme,
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it was called, The Devils Oak.
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